Swartt stood up, shaking his head sorrowfully but secretly glad that his Captains had provided him with an excuse not to turn back and seek retribution on the foebeast. “Huh, the backbones gone from you lot, yer a load o jellyfish. Ah well, I spose well keep goin west through this forest if yer all too scared to go back an avenge yer dead mates.
Redfarl perched in the low branches of an elm nearby, listening to what was going on. Her tail shot upright, a signal to the waiting squirrel archers stationed in the trees not far from the horde. They fired a line of shafts into the ground, not a pawsbreadth from where the vermin sat. Slightly farther back in the woodland cover, Jodd lay flat on the earth, his head inside a great hollow log. The hares voice echoed and boomed as he called slowly in a loud sepulchral voice, “Begone from our land while you still live! Worms feast upon any who try to stand against us; their bones rot upon the territory of the phantom slayers! Go noooooooowww!
All the squirrels in the trees, plus a few otters who were with Jodd, echoed the mournful howclass="underline" “Go noooooowwww!
Nightshade could be heard shouting as the horde took to their heels and charged westward into Mossflower, the speed of panic urging them on.
“Carry Lord Swartt, he is injured! See the line of arrows, it is a warning, the phantom slayers have spoken. Let us go!
The vixen found she was talking to herself; the horde had gone. Without a backward glance, she dashed off after them.
Some of the squirrels nearly fell from the trees, laughing. Jodd was still lying with his head in the hollow log, calling mournfully, “Im starving. Wonder whats for bally supper, us phantoms have tjolly well eeeeeeaaaaattttt!
Sumin gripped Redfarls paw gratefully. “We did it, thanks to you an Skipperjo. Redwall Abbey is deep in your debt. We will hold a feast for you all!
The squirrelhares voice boomed out from below. “Thats the ticket, a great feast! Sooooooooper!
Skipperjo met them back at the path, and there was much paw-shaking, tail-wagging, and back-slapping.
“Never lost a one of my otters, we tricked em good, mates!
“Aye, all my archers are accounted for, not a scratch on any of em. We did a great thing here today, eh, Sumin?
The sturdy squirrel beamed proudly. “We did that, it was risky an darin, but we pulled it off. A good yarn to tell the young uns, Skipperjo!
The brawny otter held up a paw. “Oh, talkin1 about young uns, matey, lookit what I found.
He signaled to a female otter, who came forward bearing a small bundle, which she carried in two slings tied together across her back.
The lanky Jodd peered into the improvised cradle. “Great furnfeathers! Its a jolly little junior vermin. Yowch! The bounder chomped rppaw. Good appetite, wot?
Sumin watched as the otter placed the squirming ferretbabe on the soft grass at the pathside. Skipperjo shook his head, saying, “Pore liddle thing, looks arf starved. Whatll we do with it?
Sumin waggled a paw at the ferretbabe, and it snarled. “Suppose well have to take him back to the Abbey an let Abbess Meriam sort it out, thats unless anybeast here fancies adoptinim?
There was silence. Redfarl touched the ferretbabe gently, and it bit her. Stonefaced, she watched the small creature licking its teeth, savoring the taste of blood, and said, “I know tis a hard thing to say about a babe, even a liddle vermin, but let me tell you, no good will ever come of this one. Dont ask me why, I just feel it in my fur!
24
Toward evening, Abbess Meriam stood on the north wall battlements with Bryony. They had been waiting and watching for days, but Meriam had not told Bryony why. The sounds of singing drifted to them on the twilight breeze, and the Abbess leaned across the battlements, smiling with relief. “Listen, Bryony, friends are coming to Redwall!
Lantern lights showed like fireflies, and, as they drew closer, rousing voices could be heard singing a quick marching song.
“Oh we chased em off the highway,
They fled off to the west,
We sent em every whichway,
Our warriors are the best.
Theyll never see ole Redwall,
Cos they were forced to flee,
Sent on their way by shaft n stone
From every greenwood tree.
Bad luck attend the vermin beast
Who came out of the north and east,
Well give em bloodnsteelnstone,
Until they leave our land alone!
Abbess Meriam cupped paws around her mouth and called, “Who goes there?
There were chortles and guffaws as Jodd replied, “Just some jolly ole phantom warriors who need fattenin up, mdear. Did my sufferin ears hear mention of a whackin great feast at your splendiferous Abbey, wot?
Meriams voice shook with laughter as she shouted back, “No, they didnt, but come in anyway and well see what we can do to silence your grumbling tummies!
A hearty cheer went up from the marchers.
The tale was told and retold over the banquet board, of how a small determined force sent the horde of Swartt Sixclaw, the Ferret Warlord, running defeated into the west. Dibbuns watched open-mouthed as the squirrelhare, Jodd, demolished everything edible that came within his reach.
“I say, this Spring Salads absolutely top hole! Eh, whats that, marm? Oh, yes, indeed, pile it on here, mdear, nothin like apple pienmeadowcream to clear ones palate, yknow. Er, excuse me, young molechap, pass yon turnipntaternwhatever they call that bally great pie you coves eat.
Thank ykindly, no, leave the jolly old dish, might want some for afters, wot!
The leader of the Redwall mole contingent, whose title was always Foremole, winked at the mole who was serving Jodd.
“Hoo arr, thatn be an arebeast, youm baint seed any haininal eaten til youm seed an arebeast, burr no zurr!
Friar Bunfold dashed about, topping off all the beakers with good October Ale. “A toast, friends, to the goodbeasts who saved Redwall! he called.
Beakers were raised, cheers rang to the rafters.
“The goodbeasts who saved Redwall! Hooray!
Amid much whispering and giggling, a steaming cauldron was wheeled in by Togget, Bryony, and Friar Bunfold. The hogwife Myrtle announced to one and all, “Now I dont take no blame fer this concoction, twas a thingummy created by these three ere, in honor of our guests this eve. Oh, you tell em, BryonyI gets all muddled!
“Well, we know that otters like their hotroot soup with watershrimp, leek, onions, and plenty of hotroot, Bryony explained to the feasters, “but we have our friends the squirrels to consider. Their favorite is the treetop broth made from maple tips, acorns, beechnuts, green apples, and horse chestnuts. So, my friends and I combined both, adding a few ingredients of our own. Two beakers of parsley wine, a touch of ramson, and some winter rosehips. We hope you enjoy itour phantom warrior soup!
It proved to be a great favorite: hot, spicy, sweet, and also strong. Some said Skipperjo ate the most, though Jodd was only a fraction of a ladle behind him.
“Mmmm, mm, quite tasty, very nice, though I do like that deepernthingee pie the molechaps make. Who knows, when Im fed up bein a squirrel I might join up an become a bally mole.
Foremole shook his velvety head vigorously. “Oh, nay, zurr, tis a tumble loif usns lead, youm far better orf bein a squirrelbeast, youm lukk more loik one.
Jodd was quite flattered by this remark, and he hitched hard at the cord tied from his bobtail to his long ears. “I say, dyou think so really? Actually, I do meself. In fact I think I look quite like a jolly old treewalloper these days. Tied the old tail to me ears so itll stretchngrow longnbushy, same as a squirrelchap. Dyou think its workin?
Foremole gave Jodds tail a tug and winked at Togget. “Whoi oi do berleev tis gettin gurtnbushy, eh, maister?
Togget nodded solemnly. “Much longer an etll be a curlen oer onto ee nose, zurr!
The banter and chatter went on late into the night amid an abundance of good food, firm friends, and a general feeling of thankfulness and well-being. Skipperjo, Redfarl, and Jodd raised beakers to the Abbess.