"Which one? Which one? Hahaaarrharrr, beauty, ask Triggut Frap an' he'll know. Hahaaarrr!"
Midda countered boldly, "Well, she's just asked ye. So why not tell us, Triggut Frap, if that's yore name!"
The Guosim maid had obviously taken the wrong approach. Triggut Frap turned his back on them, no longer laughing or dancing. "Not tellin' yew. Why should Triggut tell yewbeasts anythin'? Nastybad, that's wot ye are, nastybad!"
Diggla was over his initial fear of Triggut. The mousebabe wagged a tiny paw at him. "We not nastybad. Us are good. You be nastybad!"
An instant change came over the strange hedgehog. He slumped down against the cave wall, weeping and whimpering. "I ain't nastybad. Nobeast likes pore Triggut, jus' 'cos I ain't pretty. Go 'way go on, go 'way, all of yews. Triggut doesn't care!"
Jinty stifled a giggle. She whispered to Jiddle, "This one's crazy as a frog with feathers!"
Tura silenced her with a stern glance, also warning Midda in a low murmur, "I'll do the talkin'. Leave Triggut to me."
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Turning her attention to Triggut, who had started scattering ground dust on his head, the squirrelmaid adopted a kindly voice. "Oh, come on now, friend. Of course we like you, but we've got to get out of here. So, please, will ye show us the way? We're tired an' hungry, an' we'd love to see daylight again."
Another mood swing came over Triggut. He rose, holding out a grubby paw. "Heeheehee! Get yew out, eh? Wot'll yews give me?"
Tura indicated the little group with a sweep of her paw. "I wish we had something to give you, friend, but we're poorbeasts without a drop o' water or a crust betwixt us."
Triggut's single eye narrowed. "Got nothin, eh? Then you'll just have ter work for me awhile. That'll be worth summat."
Tura nodded agreeably. "Sounds fair enough. What sort of work were ye thinkin' of, friend?"
Triggut's mood changed again. He poked Tura with the staff. "The sorta work that I say yew'll do!"
Jiddle sidled up to Tura, whispering in her ear, "Better make it quick. Think I can hear sounds from down the tunnel--it'll be the vermin!"
That decided the issue instantly. Tura bowed politely. "We're at yore service, Triggut. We'll work for you, no questions asked. Now can we go, please?"
The scabrous hog emitted his mad cackle. "Hahaarhaarr! Ravagers after yew, are they? Want t'move fast, do yew? Heeheehee! Foller Triggut, me pretty ones!"
Before they realised what was happening, he whipped out a length of cord, noosing it around Calla and Urfa.
Midda jumped up. "Hold on, there. Wot d'yer think yore doin'?"
Triggut fended her off with his ash staff. "Jus' makin' sure yew don't all run off on me. Now, d'yew want t'go or not? Jus' say the word, wibblesnout!"
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That, and the distant sound of Ravagers, settled any further argument. They marched off behind Triggut Frap.
After a lengthy uphill walk, they finally emerged into welcome afternoon sunlight. Tears sprang to Midda's eyes--the woodlands looked so fresh and green after being underground for so long. Birdsong echoed cheerily from beech, oak, yew, sycamore and other familiar trees. Bees droned, insects chirruped, and butterflies flitted silently about. Sounds and sights they had all sorely missed in gloomy caverns. But it was the sky, that fluffy-cloud-dotted vault of light blue, which really gladdened young hearts.
Triggut did not give them long to gaze upon nature's beauty. Yanking the harebabes with him, he made off at a lolloping trot through the Mossflower greenery.
Midda caught up with him. "Which way is it to Redwall Abbey? We have friends there, you know."
The mad hog sniggered. "Don't know, heehee, an' if'n I did, I wouldn't tell yew. Not far t'the stream now!"
Midda held on to the cord, to stop the harebabes being pulled over. "Stream, what stream?"
She recoiled from Triggut's breath as he pushed his face close to hers. "Hahaaar hahaaaarr! Yew don't know where yew are, do yew?"
The Guosim maid shook her head. "No!"
He sneered in her face. "Good. Now, come on, move yerself!"
Tura sensed they were going southeast, by the position of the sun. They passed through a series of sandstone outcrops, travelling downhill through gorse-dotted scree into a valley between two high hills. Stumbling wearily into a grove of pines, they came out on a streambank. A ramshackle raft was anchored to a boulder in the shallows. Triggut giggled.
"All aboard, me beauties, quick as yew please. C'mon, li'l rabbets. We're goin' fer a nice sail."
The raft was ancient, with water springing through the
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gapped logs which formed its deck. None of this bothered Triggut Frap. He tied the two harebabes to a mast which lacked any sail. Producing a fearsome dagger from his cloak, he drove it into the mast directly above the heads of Calla and Urfa. His single eye glared balefully at the others as he gave out orders.
"See them poles yonder? Pick 'em up an' get this raft movin'. Take 'er downstream, an' steer clear o' the banks. YewTl do as I says, if'n yews wants ter keep these rabbets from 'arm. Now git polin'!"
Tura picked up a long pole, murmuring to her friends, "Do like he says. There's no tellin' wot a madbeast like this un will do next, so don't upset him."
Triggut, who had heard the squirrelmaid, snarled, "That's right. Don't upset Triggut Frap. Yew 'eard her. I'm a madbeast, see, crazy, crazy mad! Bees keep a-buzzin' round in my 'ead, all day an' all night, never stop. Buzz-buzzbuzzbuzzbuzz...."
He carried on making bee sounds, his voice getting louder and higher. Then he reached for the knife embedded above the helpless harebabes. "Buzzbuzzbuzzbuzz...."
Tura suddenly bellowed out, "Ahoy, Captain, we've got her goin' now, stayin' in midstream, just as ye said. Any more orders, Captain?"
Triggut's mood changed instantly. He ceased buzzing and chuckled happily. "Hahaarrr, keep 'er sailin' nice'n'smooth, mates!"
Tura winked at Midda, who caught on promptly. "Aye aye, Cap'n, nice'n'smooth it is. Well spoken, Cap'n!"
Triggut showed his snaggled teeth in an appreciative grin. "Hahaarrhaarrr! Cap'n, is it? I likes that. Cap'n of a fine ship with a good crew. Keep 'er steady, mates!"
Tura played up to the crazed hog shamelessly. "You heard the Cap'n. Keep 'er steady as she goes!"
Had it not been for the situation in which they found themselves, Midda would have wished for nothing more. Having spent most of her young life on Guosim logboats,
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she loved the feel of a fine summer day on a stream. The gurgle of meandering water, the fresh, clean smell of drifting banks and the swaying motion of the vessel, leaky as it was. She could watch the streambed as it slipped by. Crowfoot fronds, like flowing green tresses, swaying underwater; the flick of a minnow's tail, its red underside showing as it skimmed under the raft. A purple-scaled gudgeon, sucking pebbles on the streambed. Lacewings, delicately hovering over the current.
Tura glanced sideways at her friend. "D'you have any idea where we are, Midda?"
The shrewmaid shook her head. "No, I don't know this area at all, but by the lay o' the land, an' those tall rushes ahead, I'd say we're somewhere close to a watermeadow."
Triggut's voice cut in on them. "Ahoy, crew, stow yore gab an' bend those backs. Take 'er in to the right bank. There's a turnoff ahead that we'll be takin'."
The turnoff was a streamlet marginally wide enough to take the raft. Triggut halted them momentarily whilst he pulled out a woven reed net. It was a snare, full of small fish. Flopping it down on the deck, the mad hog winked at Tura. "Some vittles for my finny friends. Go on, keep polin' dead ahead. Be there soon now. Hahaarr!"
Just to keep his mood sweet, Midda replied, "Cap'n says straight ahead, crew. Did ye hear him?"