Part 18 (1/2)

”Owow, leggo! We were keeping guard, that's all!”

”Eeeek, me ear! Somebeast's got to watch out for searats.”

Mellus released them, shooing the delinquent pair down the steps to the Abbey lawn. ”Run along now. Searats would eat two Dibbuns like you for tea.”

”Ha, bet they wouldn't. We'd make 'em into searat pudden an' eat 'em!”

”No you wouldn't, they'd have your tails on toast. Then what would I tell the Abbot?”

The two small otters shuffled off disgruntled. Flagg the big otter called along from the west wall to Mellus, ”The only tails on toast those scurvy rats'll have is their own tails, marm. You leave it t' me an' young Saxtus.”

The badger gave a worried frown. ”I hope you're right, Flagg. They're certain to be back. Searats like that lot don't give in easily.”

Saxtus, who was on the east wall and within hearing range, called back at the same time as Flagg, ”And neither do we!”

199.

21.

Snidjer approached Mariel, brandis.h.i.+ng the sword. Weighted down by Flitchaye, she was unable to move. Helplessly she watched him raise the glittering blade. . . . From nowhere a huge voice rang out: ”I was born on a dark night in a storm! I'm the roaring child of Heavywing McGurney! Shake in your fur, Flitchaye. Stonehead's arrived!”

A barn owl of awesome proportions swooped down and hurled Snidjer high in the air. With a noise somewhere between a hoot and a roar, he launched himself into the fray. Mariel had never seen anything like it. The weed-clad, bark-masked Flitchaye scattered everywhere like ninepins.

Stonehead was aptly named. He used his ma.s.sive head like a battering ram, thudding and b.u.t.ting with the speed of a striking snake as he shouted aloud at the terrified Flitchaye tribe: ”Stand and fight, you forest weeds! Why, if I couldn't slay a dozen of you before breakfast I'd die of shame! I can drink a river dry and eat an orchard bare! I'm Stonehead McGurney, bravest of the brave!”

Mariel and her companions got the feeling they would offend the big barn owl by joining in the fight, so they stood to one side, watching as he enjoyed him- 200.

self to the full. The Flitchaye who were not laid out flat took to their holes and closed the lids. As Mariel retrieved her Gullwhacker and Dandin picked up the sword, Tarquin tuned his harolina and nudged Durry.

”I don't think I'd like to meet that chap when he's cross, do you?”

Durry kicked Snidjer on the bottom as he tried to rise. ”Dearie me, he do 'ave a right ol' temper an' no mistake.”

Six Flitchaye were backing off toward the woods. Stonehead spotted them and yelled, ”Get back here! Down your pits and shut the lids! Run away and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth! You know I never lie! We McGurneys aren't the wisest owls anywhere, but by thunder we're the bravest!” He turned to the four travelers aggressively. ”So you're Redwall creatures, eh! Should never let yourselves get caught by this lot! Flitchaye! Hah! I'll show you what they are! Come here, you!”

Snidjer came, but not quickly enough. Stonehead grabbed him in one powerful talon and ripped away the barkcloth mask and trailing weeds.

”There's a Flitchaye for you! Skinny little weasels dressed up, that's all they are! Here, do you want me to b.u.t.t him right over the top of that hollow oak? I can do it easily, you know!”

Dandin interceded on Snidjer's behalf. ”I think he's had enough, sir. Thank you for rescuing us. I am Dandin of Redwall -these are my friends, Tarquin, Mariel and Durry.”

The owl shook their paws with his talons until they ached, then he kicked open the lid of a Flitchaye hole and beckoned to Snidjer.

”In there, you, and look sharp about it!”

Snidjer obeyed with alacrity. Stonehead took a huge dead treelimb in his claws and tossed it on top of the lid, locking Snidjer inside.

”There, that's the way to treat them! Don't take any 201.

nonsense! You don't think I was too easy on them, do you? Sure you don't want me to throw a few over the treetops?”

”No no, old chap. You did splendidly. Do you live alone in these woods?”

Stonehead blinked his eyes at Tarquin and snorted. ”Alone? I'll say not! We McGurneys have always lived here! Got the wife, Thunderbeak, and four little ones-two sons and two daughters! They're only chicks, but you should see them fight! Come home with me for supper, meet my family!”

The savage golden eyes glared at them. They did not refuse.

If at all possible, Stonehead's wife Thunderbeak was even fiercer than her belligerent husband. The four babies sat at the foot of a dead ash with them, fighting uproariously at every opportunity, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of their parents. The food was surprisingly good. There was a white mushroom salad specially laid on for the travelers. The owls did not eat. Dandin decided that it would not be polite to ask them what their diet was, though the odd barkcloth and weeds in the bushes left him in little doubt.

After supper Tarquin sang and played his harolina, an impromptu song.

”If you're ever caught by the Flitchaye And the situation looks grave, Then call for a McGurney, The bravest of the brave.

He'll fight all night And battle all day Until you hear those Flitchaye say, 'Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on us all!' ”

Mariel smiled fondly at the owlets. ”Bless them, they've fallen asleep.” Thunderbeak cuffed them roughly awake. ”Where's 202.

your manners! Dozing off when the nice rabbit's singing you a song! Wake up this instant!”

Mariel wrapped her Gullwhacker into a pillow and lay down. ”Oh, don't scold them, please. They need their sleep, the same as me. Actually, if that nice rabbit starts singing another song he'll feel the knot of my Gullwhacker between his big bunny ears.”

Tarquin sat up late, remembering the next lines of the poem and discussing their future route with Stonehead, though the owl did not appear to be a great deal of help. Tarquin racked his memory, whilst pretending to be attentive to Stonehead's advice.

”Let me see now, something or other about saving any fool at all, I think the last bit was. Oh, but that was you, wasn't it?”

Stonehead blinked fiercely. ”What's that you say? I'm any fool at all! I think you could do with a lesson in politeness, rabbit! It's true we McGurneys aren't wise owls, but we're the bravest of the brave! Now defend yourself, or get kicked right over that tree!”

Tarquin held up his paws placalingly. ”Sorry, old chap, I wasn't alluding to you, not a bit of it. The fools I was talking about is us, me and my jolly old friends. Point of fact, you may be able to help us with our route. I've remembered the lines, goes somethin' like this: Beware the light that shows the way, Trust not the wart-skinned toad, In his realm no night or day. Fool, stay to the road.

That's it. Y'see it mentions us again-fool! I don't suppose you happen to know what place the rhyme means, wot?”

Stonehead got up and paced about a bit. One of the babies gave his leg a drowsy bite as he pa.s.sed, and he cuffed the sleeping infant affectionately.

”Wouldn't like to be a Flitchaye when she grows 203.

up-wonderful little battler. Yes, of course I know the place your poem mentions! You and your friends want the swampdark! Never go there myself-rotten place! Take you there in the morning. Get some sleep now, rabbit! You're quite a good singer; never have time for such nonsense myself, sooner have a good clean fight! Must warn you, though, if you start warbling and wake my wife up she'll probably rip your leg clean off! She's not named Thunderbeak for nothing, you know! Sleep well. Good night!”

Tarquin put his harolina carefully aside and lay down, gazing around at the dark dripping forest and the six savage owls in slumber.

”Blow me! I'd never take Hon Rosie picnickin' to this place.”

”What's that, rabbit? Did you say something?”

”Er, no, old bean. Just good night.”

”Good night! Now shut up and sleep! Or else . . . !”

Gabool the Wild was not affected by sleep anymore. He was driven night and day by an insane nervous energy, roaming the rooms of Fort Bladegirt. The non-arrival of Graypatch was preying upon his mind, though he did not doubt that his traitorous Captain would show up sooner or later. The King of Searats now began hoping that Graypatch would be brought back alive. He descended a winding stairway, muttering and chuckling to himself.

”No, don't kill him, that's too quick for me old s.h.i.+pmate Graypatch. Gabool's got somethin' nice fer him, a surprise, aharrharrharr! Aye, GraypatchTl remember old Skrabblag. I was Cap'n of the Ratwake an' he was mate when we brought Skrabblag from the warm isles in the deep seas to the south. Haharr, good old Skrabblag. Let's see if you're still alive an' foul-tempered.”