The rat shook his head vigourously. “No, no, never see’d one like you afore round ’ere—on me life, no!”
After pulling the bird off its spit, Gulo took a bite, his wicked fangs ripping through burning feathers and bone into the still raw meat. Without warning, he lashed out with the thick bulrush spit, whipping it into Driftail’s face as he roared, “You lie, rat! Where is the Walking Stone? Speak!”
Tears spilled from Driftail’s eyes as he nursed his stinging face. “Lord, I not lie. Wot be Walkin’ Stone?”
The bulrush whistled through the air, again and again, each time followed by Driftail’s pitiful screeching. Gulo the Savage threw aside the broken rush stalk. Digging his claws into the rat’s narrow chest, he dragged him forward. Bringing his face close to Driftail’s ear, Gulo rasped, “I’ll ask ye again, rat, an’ this time ye’d best tell me what I want to hear!”
Driftail’s face was a mask of frozen agony as his interrogator’s claws pierced his hide. Gulo hissed, “The beast who was like me—when did he pass by here?”
Driftail was not stupid; he knew he had to say something to keep himself alive, so he resorted to a lie. “Aaaaargh! T’ree, no, four night ago, diss beast pass ’ere, goin’ to d’east!”
Gulo tightened his cruel grip. “The stone he carried with him . . . of what size was it?”
Driftail quickly reckoned to himself that, if anybeast were to carry a stone on a long journey, it could not be too huge. He babbled on, hoping to buy himself some time. “Not bigga stone, only der size of, er, er, apple!”
Gulo’s voice dropped to a whisper. It sounded like a blade scraping across glass. “Those who lie are bound to die!”
Runneye and the other rats, having heard the screams, huddled together in alarm. The same white fox, Zerig, came with the four guards. He pointed to Runneye. “Bring this one next!”
Lifted clear off the ground, Runneye was borne away, whimpering, “I never did no’tink! Driftail be’s Chief!”
The River Rat was flung roughly to the ground, landing facedown, not daring to look up. However, he was compelled to obey the voice of his captor.
“Look at me, rat, I am Gulo the Savage!”
One terrified glance from Runneye told him all. The rat was staring into the face of a living nightmare. An image flashed through Runneye’s mind of an unfledged sparrow facing a serpent. Gulo’s sadistic nature revelled in tormenting those he held helpless. “What name be ye called, rat?”
Gulo watched, amused by his victim’s stammering. “R . . . R . . . Runneye.”
The wolverine spat out fragments of scorched feather. “Tell me, what do ye eat?”
It was a strange question. Runneye tried to compose himself and answer as best he could. “Fishes, bird egg, mebbe bird if’n we catch ’im. Most time jus’ der roots’n’berries.”
Gulo leaned forward. The smile that crept over his evil face was not a pleasant sight. Runneye caught a whiff of his fetid breath as the savage whispered, “Do ye know what is the best of food? Can ye tell me what Gulo and his warriors like to eat, can ye guess?”
Puzzled, the River Rat shook his head. “No.”
The wolverine bared his awesome fangs. “We eat anybeast that moves. Birds, fish, snakes . . . rats.”
Runneye’s good eye widened as he mouthed the word “R . . . rats!”
Gulo nodded, his savage eyes glittering insanely. Runneye gave a strangled moan and fainted with fright.
The wolverine kicked the senseless rat. “Take this weak fool and feed him to my warriors. Bring the next one here!”
The handsome white fox, Shard, who was Gulo’s leading captain, was standing behind the drum. He leaned over and spoke respectfully into his master’s ear. “Methinks we will learn nought from these creatures, Lord. Thy power over them is so terrible that they cannot talk. Soon ye will have slain them all.”
Gulo growled impatiently, but he heeded Shard’s counsel. “So, what would thy method be, Shard?”
The white fox had his answer ready. “Let me question the rats, Lord. ’Tis clear they have not seen thy brother, nor do they know what the Walking Stone is. Mayhap I will get some information from this one when he revives. Then thou can do what thou wilt with the rest. Just allow me to try, O Savage One.”
Gulo picked a fragment of feather from between his fangs. “If they know nought of Askor, or my Walking Stone, how can the brainless idiots tell thee anything?”
Shard spoke soothingly to placate his ferocious master. “One may catch more birds with honey than with stones, Lord. I have my ways. Oftimes creatures will tell me things they thought they did not know. Mayhap the rats know not thy brother or the Stone, but methinks they would know where a beast carrying such treasure would go, to hide it. ’Tis better finding out such information than merely slaying and eating them, eh?”
Gulo had always been a beast of swift action, never of deep thoughts. He paused a moment, weighing his decision before staring at his captain through narrowed eyes. “Thou art cunning, Shard, but foxes were ever cleverbeasts. Canst thou find out such things for me?”
The fox bowed. “I live only to serve the mighty Gulo!”
Throughout the remainder of the day the wolverine rested, eating and taking his ease, letting his clever captain take care of future planning and strategy. Gulo knew that if any scheme did not please him, he could change it to suit himself at a single stroke.
Shard sat with his mate, Freeta, who watched him with calculating eyes. “So then, is the Savage still devouring everything that moves, or has he started using his brain and not his fangs?”
Shard gave a swift glance around, making sure nobeast was party to their conversation. He tapped his forehead. “Nay, ’tis I who is Gulo’s brain. He is merely a dangerous weapon which must be controlled. I will need thy help to question the rats. We must learn more about this warm land of plenty, this place is a paradise.”
Freeta agreed. “Aye, far better than the lands of ice beyond the great sea. Tell me what I must do to aid thee, Shard.”
Eventide fell softly over the flatlands in a wash of crimson and purple. Gulo the Savage lounged by his fire, picking over the bones of a pike. He looked up expectantly as Shard approached. The white fox hunkered down, slightly out of the wolverine’s reach; it was always wise, Shard had learned through experience, to take such precautions in the presence of Gulo.
Casting aside the pike bones and licking his claws, Gulo half-closed his glittering eyes. “Well, what news do ye bring me, Captain?”
Shard made his report. “It is as ye said, O Savage One. The rats know nought of the Stone or thy brother. But in the early winter two beasts, a hedgepig and a burrower, were espied, travelling northeast into the woodlands which lie ahead. Betwixt them they pulled a cart.”
Gulo came instantly alert. “What was in this cart?”
Shard shrugged eloquently. “Who could say? They had entered the woodlands before the rats could catch up with them. Those two beasts were the only creatures who moved through this territory since the rats have been here. Mayhaps we could hazard a guess—yon cart could have contained Askor, fleeing thy wrath, hiding from view with the Walking Stone.”
Gulo yawned moodily. “I grant thee, ’tis possible, but where would they be going, and why should they be hiding Askor and taking him with them, eh?”
The white fox explained his reasoning. “Ask thyself, what resistance could two lowly creatures put up against a wolverine? As to whence they have gone, the rats all know of such a place. ’Tis a great stone fortress called Redwall. They say many great treasures are stored within its walls. The rat thou ordered slain, Runneye, he knows exactly where ’tis to be found. A good thing we did not slay him, Lord.”
Gulo, ignoring his captain’s object lesson, was clearly excited. “The rat can take us there?”
Shard touched his sword hilt, smiling thinly. “He loves life too much to refuse.”