"Well, wait'll I tell my ol' nuncle, dashin' off an' leavin' a young 'og in the dark like that. Ain't you got no feelin's, missy?"

That night the fires blazed merrily in the cavern of the Trag warriors, huge platters of shrimp and sh.e.l.lfish were served, with wild oat and barley bread, hot from the rocks it had been baked on, casks of preserved fruits taken from searat ships were opened and a fine barrel of daisy and dandelion beer tapped. The friends sat around as Joseph related his story.

"Gabool pushed me from a high window of his banqueting room. Luckily for me I did not strike the rock-face on the way down. I hit the water hard and was knocked senseless; I was weak and ill from being starved and imprisoned, otherwise I might have stayed conscious. The sea must have washed me around the headland, and I came to jammed against a reef on a small inlet somewhere up the coast of Terramort. That's where I was found by that fellow." Joseph pointed to a vole who was seated on a rock ledge sharpening a sword. The vole stood up and bowed to them, introducing himself by name, "Tan Loc." He sat down and resumed sharpening the sword.

"Tan Loc is a fellow of few words," Joseph continued. "He broods a lot. His whole family were slain by searats when he was taken captive. He lives for only one thing: to meet the murderer, Hookfin, Master of the Blacksail. But back to my story. Tan Loc and I helped each other stay alive. We could not afford to be seen- it would have meant certain death -so we stayed on this side of the island, surviving as best we could. One day we discovered this place and its tunnels-I will show them to you in due course. The tunnels were a new lease of life to us. They led to places all over the island, so we could travel anywhere and remain unseen. Some nights we would steal supplies from the ships, weapons too, and other items which would be 335.

of use to us. We soon came across others, house slaves from Fort Bladegirt who had managed to escape, sometimes oarslaves, thrown on the beach because they were too sick and weak to pull an oar anymore. In time our numbers began to swell. That was when we decided to form Trag, Terramort Resistance Against Gabool. Soon now we will be strong enough to attack Bladegirt in force, though our numbers would never equal the searat horde up there at the moment. Still, we will fight them and try to rid the earth of Gabool the Wild. We may not have the numbers, but we have the courage and determination."

Lord Rawnblade stood up, both paws resting on the crosshilt of his destroyer Verminfate. "I am sworn to kill Gabool. He is mine!"

Joseph touched the long knife at the back of his belt. "Then you will have to be quick, Lord Widestripe. I made an oath to slay Gabool when the house slaves told me he had drowned my Mariel with a rock and a rope tied about her neck. That oath still holds!"

Mariel leaped up, the Gullwhacker swinging wide. "First there, first served! Gabool's life is mine to take. I am Mariel Gullwhacker, I claim the right!"

Tarquin leaned over to Dandin. "What about you, old feller?"

Dandin drew the sword slowly. "This is the blade of Martin the Warrior. No creature that is evil can stand against it, least of all Gabool!"

Tarquin and Durry held a hasty whispered conference, then they both jumped up, issuing their separate challenges.

"This 'ere is my scraggin' dagger, an' I'm goin' to scrag that scurvy Gabool good 'n' proper. I'm on'y a young lad, but I swear it by my ol" nuncle Gabe's best October ale!"

"Well, you'll have t' scrag away pretty fast, old chap, 'cos if Joseph has got the blighter with his long knife, Milord Rawnblade has paid the rotter a visit with that 336.

great log cleaver and our Mariel has been to see the scoundrel with her Gullwhacker, then along comes the bold Durry Quill with his scraggin' dagger, well, tell me this: what chance is an honest chap like meself goin' to get to brain the beggar with my jolly old harolina, wot? Listen, you lot, stop bein' so confounded greedy and let me be first to knock out a tune on the villain's noodle."

The sight of Tarquin striking a n.o.ble pose, harolina at the ready, caused the entire group to dissolve into helpless laughter.

Gabool was in no mood for laughter. The maddened Searat King dashed furiously around his barred and bolted room, slashing at phantom badgers as they stole out of the shadows to confront his bloodshot eyes, shrieking and thrusting wildly at the specters created by his tormented brain.

"Haharr, I'll finish ye all. I'm Gabool the King of all Seas!"

Bongl Bongl Bongl Bong Bongl He rent curtains and wallhangings; sparks showered from his sword as it clashed on the stone walls.

"Cursed noise, I'll send yer to h.e.l.lgates an' beyond!"

Down below in the banqueting hall, Riptung, Hookfin and Grimtooth laughed drunkenly as they flung hard apples across the tables at the great tarnished bell in the center of the floor.

"Haharr! Listen, Yer Majesty, it's yer old matey the bell a-speakin' to yer. It wants t' know where you've hid the booty. Haharrharrharr!"

The crews joined in the laughter as they pelted the bell with apples.

Boom! Bongl Booml Bongl Booml Bongggggl 337.

A pale dawn sun high above Mossflower Woods watched impa.s.sively as the otter and badger searched for the searat camp, longbows at the ready.

Flagg strained his ears for sounds of movement. "It's no good, marm. We should've asked the squirrels which way t' go."

Mother Mellus sat down upon a fallen limb and rubbed her eyes. "Perhaps you're right, Flagg. My old senses aren't what they used to be. If we don't find it soon we'll have to change direction."

The otter joined her on the limb. "Tell you what, marm. We'll take a liddle rest and then try a different path anyway. By the fur, I'm tired. Missin' a full night's sleep never did me much good, even when I was a cub. Aaaahhhh! Sit down on the gra.s.s 'ere an' put yer back against this limb awhile. There now, ain't that a little better?"

Mellus relaxed, settling her head back against the moss-covered limb. A big b.u.mblebee droned lazily past on its quest for nectar, in the distance a songthrush warbled blithely its hymn to the coming summer day, somewhere close by a gra.s.shopper that had strayed from the flatlands chirruped idly. The warmth of the rising sun beat steadily down upon the two weary 338.

friends. As sleep stole up and took their tired senses unawares, the longbows slipped from their paws, and their eyes drooped shut.

A small spider was starting to weave her web from the tip of a longbow to Flagg's nose. He twitched his snout, flicking at it drowsily with his paw as the voices intruded upon his dream.

"Somewheres around this way she was. I swear I saw 'er, matey!"

"Well, stow yer gab an' keep that spear ready. Y' can't take no chances with this scurvy rabbit. I could swear we've killed 'er three times a'ready. Tread easy now-is that 'er?"

"Where?"

"Layin' among those fern things, goggle eyes. Look, can't y'see?"

Flagg came awake, collecting his senses as he listened to the searats.

"Take no chances this time, mate. Sneak up, an' both of us in fast with the spears, hard as y'can, ten times apiece. See she doesn't jump away agin."

"Aye, did ye ever see anythin' like that leap she made out of the camp? Right over Graypatch's 'ead, an' 'er all cut t' pieces too!"

The urgency of the situation hit Flagg like a thunderbolt. Sitting up silently, he placed a paw across Mellus's mouth and shook her awake. The badger saw something in Flagg's eyes that made her go completely still. He gestured forward with his paw, whispering one word. "Searats!"

Stealthily the two friends stood up, fitting arrows to their longbows.

The two searats were standing some distance away, their backs to the hunters as they sneaked in upon a bed of fern, spears raised, ready for the kill. Flagg and Mellus drew back the shafts upon their bowstrings to 339.

full stretch. The otter nodded to Mellus, and she called out in a loud gruff voice, "Ahoy there!"

The two searats turned in the direction of her voice as the arrows left the longbows with a vicious twin hiss. Both rats fell instantaneously, the sharp oak shafts standing out of their necks a half-length.

Regardless of nettle and bush, the otter and the badger crashed through the woodland into the bed of ferns. They stood aghast at the wounded, scarred, bloodstained form of Hon Rosie lying on the ground. She pulled herself up onto one paw, smiling crookedly through her ripped and battered face.

"H-h.e.l.lo, you ch-chaps. 'Fraid they've k-killed me . . . Wot . . . !" Collapsing back, the brave hare lay stretched among the ferns.

Mellus was down beside her, ripping up her garments, bandaging, wiping blood from Rosie's face and ma.s.saging her paws as she instructed Flagg. "Have you got a knife?"

"Yes, marm-one of Friar Alder's best. Is she dead?" "No, not quite. There's a chance. Cut some poles-no, wait, use the longbows. Chop some vines, anything. We'll use our belts . . . Got to make a stretcher. Here!" She ripped off her belt and threw it to Flagg. The helpful otter took off his own. "Gotcha, marm. Leave it t' me!" He set about his task swiftly, glancing urgently back to where Mellus was busy with Rosie among the ferns. "You can't die, d'you hear me, Rosie? Wake up! If you die, I'll kill you! Oh, I'm sorry dear. Live! Live for Clary and Thyme. Live!"

Rufe Brush and Oak Tom headed the party that had set out from Redwall at dawn. They were all heavily armed and determined to help Mellus and Flagg against the searats. Cutting off the path, they entered the woodlands. Tom and Treerose swung off into the foli- 340.

age to scout ahead. Gabe Quill brandished a big bung mallet angrily.

"I'll searat 'em, the filthy vermints!"

Rufe turned to him. "Keep your voice down, Gabe . . . Owch! Watch where you're pokin' that lance, Burgo. Pooh! Are you chewin' wild garlic again?"

"Burr, aye, zurr. Found some o' the pesky stuff o'er yonder. Oi carnt aboid the smell tho' I dearly do luv ets taste. 'Pologies 'bout 'ee larnce, zurr."

"Chuck ee larnce aways," Foremole whispered in Burgo's ear. "You'm cudd slay emenies with thoi breath!"

"Over here, straight ahead," Oak Tom called out from a high hornbeam. "It's Mellus an' Flagg bearin' a stretcher."

The Redwallers flocked around Rosie, gabbling questions at her rescuers.

"Is she dead?"

"Coo deary, she'm bad cuttup!"

"Where did you find her, Flagg?"

"Any sign o' Clary or Thyme?"

"D'you think she'll live?"

Mellus silenced them with a growl. "Stop all this silly chattering. We must get this hare to Redwall as speedily as possible. You squirrels, will you get back to the Abbey as quickly as you can. Tell Sister Serena, Simeon, the Abbot and Sister Sage to have all their medicines ready and a room in sickbay cleared out. Right, off you go!"

The three squirrels went off through the top terraces of the woodlands like greased lightning. Ready pawys gripped the stretcher, steadying Rosie as the group broke into a fast trot.

Graypatch limped badly from an arrow that had pierced his leg. He gazed around at the smashed cage, the smoldering embers of last night's fires and the carca.s.ses of dead searats that littered the ground like fallen leaves. They were piled in a heap in the middle of the camp. He prodded the lifeless forms with his sword. Somewhere beneath that heap lay two hares and a squirrel. The searat Captain shook his head and slumped down upon a rock.

"Three hares and a squirrel did all this?" he murmured disbelievingly.

Deadglim shambled over. He leaned on a broken spear, nursing the place where his left ear had been. "Eighteen left alive, Cap'n. Well, it would be a score, but two went after the hare that got away."

Graypatch ma.s.saged his leg, wincing. "Eighteen, is that all!"

"Aye, Cap'n. What's yer orders?"

Graypatch stared into the surrounding forest. He had come to hate Mossflower country; the whole thing had been a catalogue of disaster since they arrived. He had stolen the Darkqueen and set sail from Terramort with a crew of a hundred able-bodied searats, and now he was sitting in this landlocked h.e.l.l of greenery with only eighteen left.

"Tell the crew to pack up, lock, stock 'n' barrel. We're pullin' out o' this stinkin' place. I'm goin' to find the Darkqueen, get 'er seaworthy an' sail out to the open sea, where we can breathe again!"

A slow smile formed upon Deadglim's coa.r.s.e face. "Aye-aye, Cap'n Graypatch. I'll do that with pleasure, sir!

Treerose paced the corridor outside the sickbay.

Abbot Bernard came out with a basin and a stained towel. "Ah, Treerose. See if you can get some clean warm water and a fresh towel for me, pretty one."

Treerose's voice betrayed great anxiety. "How is Rosie, Father?"

The Abbot wiped his paws on his wide sleeves, a smile creasing his kindly face. "D'you know, I didn't believe it at first, but she's going to be all right. Thanks 342.

to your warning, the creatures who got her here so fast, and the marvelous skills of Simeon and Sister Sage. Yes, Treerose, she's going to be around for quite a number of seasons yet to come. So you stop that crying now and get me fresh water and a clean towel."

Mother Mellus came out to stand in the corridor with the Abbot. "What was all that about, Father?"

"Oh, nothing really. It just surprises me how overnight that young squirrel has changed from a spoilt brat into a really nice helpful creature."

Mellus patted the Abbot's frail back. "Hmm, then we must be doing something right, the way we bring our young ones up at Redwall, eh!"

The Abbot bowed gallantly. "The way you bring them up, Mellus."

Saxtus lay on his back in the strawberry patch with the Dibbuns. Bagg and Runn chattered incessantly as they decimated the latest crop of ripe fruit.

"Have all the searats gone now, Sax'us?"

"Suppose so. We haven't seen them for a while."

"An' they're not comin' back to 'ttack the Abbey again?"

"I hope not. Why d'you ask?"

"Oh nuts! I wanted 'em t' come back so I could fight 'em!"

"No you don't, little one. We've had enough fighting and killing. Isn't it much nicer lying here filling your tummy with strawberries in the sun?"

"Mm, s'pose so, but I can't get at the biggest 'n' juiciest 'n' squashiest ones."

"Why not?"

"'Cos you're lyin' on 'em. Hohohoho!"

Saxtus got up slowly, feeling the cold juice running down his back. "Well, thank you for telling me so soon!"

Grubb plonked himself down and began stuffing 343.

strawberries three at a time. "Oi sees 'ee winds blowed all 'ee strawbly trees away agin."

Sister Sage was creeping from the sickbay with Simeon on tip-paw. They had done all they could with the hare's dreadful injuries; now they decided it was best that she sleep and recuperate. The hinge squeaked as Sister Sage opened the door.

Rosie opened one eye and peeked through the bandaged slit. "Never died after all, wot . . . good . . . show!"

Simeon leaned on Sister Sage's arm. "Incredible! Totally unbelievable. I've heard of cats having nine lives, but that Rosie, she's the limit!"

Sister Sage shut the door as quietly as possible. "Or the absolute bally limit, as Colonel Clary would have said."

344.

37.

"Do you know where we are now?"

Mariel and Rawnblade shook their heads. They were completely lost on their guided tour of the tunnels of Terramort.

Joseph pointed ahead. "Go up there -careful now because it's the end of this particular tunnel-and you'll see a couple of gorsebushes. Just part them and tell me what you see."