Log a Log sheathed his rapier and shook Skipper's paw. "Sounds like good sense t'me, messmate. Right, let's get on with gatherin' weapons so we can show a liddle good manners to those Marlfoxes an' water rats tonight!"
The dispute broke up amid chuckles and laughter. Cregga reached out a paw and halted Rusvul as he moved off. The good badger spoke to him out of earshot of the rest. "You have not been here many seasons, Rusvul, and I know you had a hard life. But you should not have shamed your son by shouting at him in front of otherbeasts like that. Dann is a fine young creature, but like us all he is bound to make mistakes. It's part of growing up. I know you honor your title of Reguba, and the way of the warrior is not an easy one. However, it is no bad thing for a warrior to have a scholar's knowledge. It can bring wisdom to his judgment and shrewdness to his thinking."
Rusvul patted the badger's wide paw. "Yore right, of course, marm, but 'tis no easy thing t'be both father an' mother to a young 'un. I'm more used to fightin' than to parentin'."
Cregga turned her eyes toward him as if she could see him. "Good. Then show us what you are made of out there tonight."
Five sacks of weapons had been collected, blades and short arms that were easily concealed within the curtain bags. Supper was taken early in Great Hall, and before it was served Skipper gave final orders.
"Log a Log, straight after you've eaten, take some Guosim out. Go from the main gate across into the ditch, follow it north a bit, then sweep out an' come back down t'the south woodland fringe. We'll give you a shout when we're ready for yore lot to attack from the rear. Janglur an' Rusvul, you'll lead the party carryin' the sacks of arms. Tragglo an' Gubbio, you'll be in charge of our own Redwallers an' the rest o' the shrews. When you see Janglur'n'Rusvul open the sack o' trinkets, that's when you grab the weapons out of the sacks an' attack. Make sure you shout'n'yell plenty to confuse 'em. I'll grab Dwopple an' pass the liddle 'un safe to Cregga, an' we'll get 'im back to the Abbey. Friar Butty, 'ave the gate ready, an' soon as Cregga an' Dwopple are inside, lock it! I'll come back an' join the rest of ye. 'Tis a scrap I'd 'ate to miss! If all goes well we should be soon bangin' on the gate to get back in, so lissen for us, Friar. Now, Sister Sloey, Melilot an' Nutwing, you take all the elders an' Dibbuns down to the wine cellars. Stay there safe an' silent, you'll be fine. Dann, Song an' Dippler, you three'll stay guard 'ere in Great Hall. Make sure none enters here save Redwallers. The safety of our Abbey's in yore paws. So that's the plan. Good luck to all an' blood'n'vinegar to our foes!"
Ellayo looked uncertainly at Skipper. "But they are so young, Skip. Are you sure they are ready for such a great task?"
"Don't worry yourself, marm. With our plan no rat or fox will find its way inside these walls."
Everybeast pounded the tables and roared approval, though none more than Dann, Song, and Dippler, who were flushed with pride at the enormous responsibility Skipper had bestowed upon them. Badgermum Cregga spoke when the din had died down. "I think a warriors' grace is in order before we eat.
"Fate and fortunes, seasons fair,
Be kind to us this day,
Let nobeast here whom we hold dear,
See comrades borne away.
May the strong defend the weak,
Protect those who take part,
Grant victory of truth and right,
To warriors brave of heart.
Banish the foebeast from our land,
And when new seasons fall,
Leave not an empty space of grief,
Amongst us at Redwall!"
There was silence for a moment, then Florian Duggle-woof Wilffachop added a few lines in a stage whisper that could be heard by all.
"An' if on an empty tummy I'm slain,
Then I'll jolly well never get killed again,
So pass the pudden an' fetch the pies,
An' I'll give the foebeast a rotten surprise!"
Deesum rapped the hare's paw sharply with a spoon. "Mister Florian, what a dreadful thing to say!"
Florian wrung his paw and blew upon it. "Owooch! Save your aggression for the enemy, marm! I say, what a super pasty. Is that all for me, wot?"
Gurrbowl the cellarmole sliced off a wedge of pasty and presented it to the gluttonous hare. "This yurr pasty be's full o' woild garlic, maister. You'm may not loik et, 'tis powerful strong, ho urr!"
Much to the amusement of everybeast, Florian ate a double helping with great relish. "Exceedingly tasty, my good mole. Garlic, y'say? Well, at least I won't have much trouble bowlin' the enemy over. I'll just shout in their faces like this. Whoooooo are yooooooooou!"
Deesum fell back, clutching a serviette to her nose. "Really, sir, do you have to do that?"
Rimrose helped herself to some mint wafers and maple sauce. "Were you ever in a battle, mister Florian?"
Borrakul the otter paused, a ladle half in and half out of a bowl of summer vegetable soup. "Oh, don't start him, marm, please!"
But Florian was in fine form. Piling his plate high with woodland trifle and plum tart, he put on a brave face. "Battle did y'say, marm? I once frightened off a thousand flippin' frogs armed with nought but a pail o' wet blackberries!"
Tragglo Spearback swirled the October Ale in his tankard. "Don't tell such whackin' fibs, you great furry fraud!"
Deesum looked up from a slice of strawberry flan she was nibbling. "Oh, but he did. Let me tell you how it happened. We'd been picking blackberries and had collected a small pailful, but unfortunately baby Dwopple upset them in some mud. Mister Florian took them down to the stream to wash them clean while we set up camp. It was in deep woodlands down southwest. While he was away we were suddenly surrounded by masses of frogs. There must have been a thousand of the dreadful things, and they looked very aggressive and pretty angry with us. I think it was because we had done our washing in a pool-ful of their tadpoles. Anyhow, they had us captured and looked as if they were planning something ugly as a punishment for the whole troupe. Go on, you tell them what happened next, sir."
Florian smiled modestly from behind his heaped platter. "Oh, 'twas nothin' really. Y'see, I'd spotted what was goin' on. Those frog chaps looked rather peeved an' I thought they might harm my troupe. I had the jolly old pail full of water, with the blackberries in itthey'd gotten messed up a bit an' looked rather mushy, but still jolly tasty, wot. So I comes trundlin' up, pullin' the drippin' blackberries out o' the water pail an' scoffin' 'em by the pawful, shoutin' out loud in a fearsome voice. Tadpoles! Haharr, tadpoles (says I), nothin' nicer for lunch than a perishin' pailful o' tadpoles except a nice juicy green frog or two! I say, you chaps, hello there! Saved some frogs for me, wot wot?"
Elachim shook with laughter as he recalled the incident. "Hohoho! You should've seen those frogs scatter. Some of 'em leapt clear over big bushes. They thought ole Florian was comin' to scoff 'em! Hahaha! An' there he stood, cool as y'like, shovin' wet blackberries down 'is face an' pretendin' they was tadpoles!"
Florian mused around a spoonful of trifle. "Hmm, maybe some of 'em were. That stream was full of all manner of small black wriggly things, blackberries, tadpoles, who could jolly well tell? Silly bloomin' frogs. Fancy takin' a perfectly respectable cove like m'self for a cannibal frogscoffer. Tchah!"
Winking broadly at Nutwing, Friar Butty shook his head sympathetically. "Indeed, how could they have made such a dreadful error?"
The lively meal progressed into the evening, with the Wandering Noonvale Companions Troupe rendering one of the songs from their repertoire in three-part harmony, with the hedgehog Runktipp acting as conductor. Log a Log watched Abbey lamplighters illuminating the candles and lanterns around Great Hall as daylight's last gleam deserted long stained-glass windows. Rising silently from the table, he nodded to his chosen group of Guosim. Quietly they checked their rapiers, slings and stone pouches, then slipped off into the gathering night, with the melodious strains of the singers echoing around the hall after them.