Stringle tried explaining. "I er, thought we'd better wait fer you, Boss ... er, I think we've lost 'em...."
Gruntan exploded. "Lost 'em, worra ye talkin' about, lost 'em, 'ow could any fool lose six logboats on a straight stream?"
Stringle pointed across at Noggo on the other bank. "Well, that scout couldn't see any sign of 'em up ahead, an' I couldn't see 'em either. So we waited for yore orders, Boss."
Noggo called across, trying to sound helpful. "I was sayin' to Stringle, they might've gone up that side-stream, Boss."
Gruntan Kurdly cast a glance at the tree trunk which bridged the sidestream, he looked across at Noggo. "An wot, pray, gave ye that bright idea?"
Noggo shrugged. "Well, they had t'go somewhere, an' they ain't on the mainstream, so I thought they might've cut off up there, Boss."
Noggo was sorry he had spoken. Gruntan pointed to the bank, where he was sitting upon his litter. "Get over 'ere, now!"
Noggo looked at the stream separating them both. "Wot, y'mean swim, Boss?"
Gruntan bellowed aloud, "No, I mean fly, ye dimwitted dolt. Get over 'ere right now!"
Noggo leapt in and swam across. A moment later he was standing, trembling, alongside his leader.
Gruntan indicated the tree-trunk bridge. "Tell me, 'ow did they git six logboats over that?"
Noggo had his answer ready. "Carried 'em, Boss, they
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was carryin' their boats when me'n Biklo first spotted 'em. Sh'ews kin carry boats, y'know."
Gruntan winced as he pulled a gorse thorn from his tail area. "Right, we'll wait 'ere whilst you go an' take a look. Give us a shout if'n ye spot 'em."
Noggo knew he had no choice, he set off along the less well-defined and more muddy sidestream bank.
Osbil whispered to Maudie, "There's one of the vermin comin' toward us, what'U we do?"
The haremaid murmured as she watched the approaching Brownrat, "Keep lyin', doggo, he might not come up this far. But if he does, don't fret, I'll jolly well stop the blighter. In fact, I'll stop him cold!" Going into a crouch, ready to spring, Maudie clenched her paws tightly. Everybeast in the boats held their breath.
Noggo was talking softly to himself as he neared the rushes and overhanging trees. "Huh, that's wot I get fer tryin' t'be 'elpful. I'll keep me trap shut from now on, I ain't no ossifer!"
He ducked under the tree canopy, and was met by Maudie. She came bounding from the stern of the logboat, poleaxing the unsuspecting Noggo with a thundering right punch, followed by a swift left. There was no need for a third blow, the first two had done the job. Noggo was out for the rest of the day. As Maudie slid back into the boat, everything suddenly went wrong.
An otterbabe squealed out in pain, stung on her nosetip by one of the wasps which had been buzzing about. Before she could be silenced, the little one's piercing wails were echoing about widespread.
Barbowla appeared over the stern of the back logboat. "Ahoy, mates, git those paddles a-slappin', 'tis time we weren't in this place!"
The Guosim crews needed no urging, they shot their boats through the tree canopy and out onto the other side, paddles digging furiously. In the vessel to the rear, Maudie
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and Osbil could see the first of the Brownrats, headed by Stringle, squelching their way along the muddy bank as they came hot in pursuit.
The sidestream was only wide enough to allow the Guosim craft to travel in single file. Prow bumped stern as they fled from Kurdly and his horde. Barbowla, and three of his sturdy sons, formed a rearguard behind the boats.
Maudie called to the otter, "Get up front, friends, I'll organise some sling throwers an' archers. They'll soon be close enough for us to get a shot at 'em, wot!"
Barbowla thrust his weight against the stern, shooting the craft forward. "No, miz, there's too many vermin, ye'd be overrun if'n ye tried to fight 'em. Speed, that's wot we need!"
Another shaded area of trees loomed up. Luglug could be heard calling from up in front. "We're runnin' into the forest, keep goin', mates, Redwall Abbey ain't far now, I recognise this area!"
Gruntan Kurdly was in the rear of the pursuit, bumping about as a score of Brownrats stumbled along bearing his litter. He was alternately urging his horde along, whilst cursing the litter carriers roundly.
"Avast up front, move yore sluggardly hides! I've seen snails wid shells on their backs that'd outrun youse lot. Argh! Go easy wid this stretcher, ye bumble-pawed nits, faint a bundle o' washin' yore totin'! Oof! Ye nearly spilt me into the water, watch where yore goin'. Where's the rest of 'em, they ain't all up front?"
Laggle, the old healer, who was trotting alongside the litter, gestured backward to the mainstream. "Heehee, half o' yore army are still on t'other side o' that mainstream. Prob'ly waitin' for a drought, so as it'll dry up an' they kin walk across."
Gruntan scowled sourly at the insolent Laggle, who was no respecter of rank or title. "Ho, are they? Well, go an' tell 'em if'n they ain't over 'ere in two shakes of a tail,
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there'll be a few attacks o' the Kurdlys runnin' through the ranks!"
He signalled to two vermin who were not engaged in carrying him. "Go an' see if'n we're gainin' on 'em, surely my rats kin run faster'n sh'ews kin paddle boats? Oh, an' when ye report back t'me, well, bring some vittles. I ain't gonna be bumped t'death an' starved inter the bargain. Yowch! Watch those tree branches over'ead, I near got me eye put out then. Can't ye carry an' crouch a bit, too?"
Maudie looked anxiously over the logboat's stern, not encouraged by what she saw. "I say, Osbil old lad, I don't wish to sound like a wet blanket, but those vermin types are gainin' on us, wot!"
The Guosim spotter nodded unhappily. "Aye, they're closin' the gap, miz, I can make out the paint on their mangy hides. We need more speed!"
Barbowla's wife, Kachooch, popped her head over the stern. "We're tryin', but ye can only go as fast as the boat in front when yore sailin' in single file."
"Ah, shure that's true, so 'tis. Ye talk good sense for a riverdog, so ye do!"
The logboat rocked as a creature dropped out of an overhanging beech into the vessel. He was a squirrel, small, but very wiry and agile. Four daggers were thrust into his broad waist sash, he wore a short, embroidered waistcoat, one hooped earring, and sported a woven, multicoloured headband, at a jaunty angle. He winked cheekily at Maudie, then bowed. "Rangval the Rogue at y'service, marm. Pray would ye impart t'me yore own dulcet title?"
Despite the peril of their position, the young haremaid took an immediate liking to Rangval, she curtsied formally. "Maudie (the Hon.) Mugsberry Thropple, pleased to make your acquaintance I'm sure."
Rangval the Rogue performed a somersault neatly. "Faith, an' that's a fine ould gobful of a name ye have there, marm. If'n I may, I'll just call ye Maudie, or prettyface, or
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beautybeast? Ah, but enough o' that ould flannel, I see ye've got problems. An' isn't it the bold Gruntan Kurdly an' his thickheaded horde!"
Maudie took another glance at the rats, who were getting closer by the moment. "It is indeed, I take it you know of him, wot?"
Rangval twitched his nose in the horde's direction. "Shure an' who doesn't know o' that 'un around here. I've been crossin' swords wid that boyo since he first showed his snotty nose in these parts. D'ye need my help now, Maudie, just say the word, me darlin', an' 'tis meself that'll put a spoke in his wheel!"
Osbil interrupted. "Wot could one squirrel do agin that lot?" Before he could speak further, the Guosim spotter was flat on his back with Rangval's dagger tickling his throat.
The roguish squirrel tweaked Osbil's snout. "When I want yore opinion, me ould son, I'll ask for it! Ah, shure but yore only a spiky rivermouse, what would ye know about anythin' or a hatful o' hazelnuts?" Rangval put up his blade and dismissed Osbil. "Now then, Maudie me darlin', tell yer friends to push on upstream an' don't hang about. When ye come to a tidy liddle cover with a sandstone overhang an' some pines nearby, wait for me there. Oh, an' when ye pass by Owch Mansions, hold y'breath an' keep yer head down, an' make no sudden movements."