"I'll strangle Triggut Frap with me own paws when I get hold of the brute!"
"Aye, workin' us like slaves an' threatenin' to have our mousebabe eaten by pike. Oooh, just give me a short time an' a long stick. By thunder, I'll show him!"
Tura rubbed shoulders with the seething pair. "Not if'n I gets to him first, ye won't. I'll feed him, not Diggla, t'the pikefish, scrap by scrap!"
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Midda chuckled. "Who, that dirty, filthy ole scum? Huh, the fish'll spit him back as soon as they get a mouthful of Triggut, believe me!"
Jinty could not suppress a giggle. "Teehee, maybe that'll be our way off this island. Feed the crazy hog to the pike an' poison 'em all!"
Jiddle did a fair impression of a pike which had tasted Triggut's flesh. "Yurk! Oh, 'elp me, I'm poisoned, goin' mad an' dyin' all at the same time. Hahaha!"
Tura joined him. "Yaarggh! An' t'think we imagined he was our friend. Gurrrgh!"
Triggut Frap's harsh voice cut into their merriment. "Sharrap an' keep workin'. I don't know wot yew lot 'ave got to laugh about. Now, work, or I go fishin'!"
Saturated, mud-spattered and sore-pawed, the young captives laboured on in silence. However, Triggut could not stop them thinking their vengeful thoughts.
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BOOK FOUR The Battle of Redwall Abbey
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It was late evening before the rain ceased. Buckler, Axtel, Jango and the Guosim shrews emerged from Mossflower's dripping woodlands at the east wallgate of Redwall. Their progress had been somewhat hindered--Axtel's footpaw wound had slowed him down considerably.
Following the code of the Long Patrol, Buckler never left a wounded comrade behind. In fact, he had spent most of the march from Althier assisting the Warrior mole, whose injury had left him with a permanent limp. The worry uppermost in the young hare's mind was that Zwilt might reach the Abbey before he could. However, he felt reassured by the relative quiet and calm which surrounded Redwall.
Log a Log Jango was also relieved. "Well, at least we didn't arrive in the midst of an invasion, mate. Wonder wot happened t'the vermin?"
Buckler took a pace back, peering up at the walltop. "Here comes a sentry--we'll soon find out."
Jango shouted to the figure patrolling the battlements, "Ahoy, you, there, let us in, will ye? We're Guosim!"
It was Furm, Jango's wife, carrying a long cloak and hood propped up on an oven paddle. She peeped over the ramparts at the group below. "Is that you, Jango Bigboat?
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Well, I ain't lettin' ye in unless you've brought our little uns back with ye!"
Buckler answered sharply, "Don't fool about, marm. Redwall could be under attack at any moment. Open this wallgate on the double!"
Furm pattered speedily down the wallsteps and drew back the bolts, admitting the group.
Buckler and Jango rushed past her without a word, up the steps to the walltops, with the rest following them. Buckler rapped out orders. "Spread out along the walkways. See if ye can catch sight of the Ravagers before night falls!"
Skipper and Oakheart were on the west threshold above the main door. The Otter Chieftain noted Buckler's anxiety as he hurried up.
"Buck, wot's happened? Did ye get the babes back?"
The young hare shook his head. "Not yet, Skip, but we know that Zwilt an' his vermin are marchin' on the Abbey. Thank the seasons we arrived back ahead of them!"
Shielding his brow with a paw, he peered out into the setting sun on the western plain. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, he repeated the action. "Look out there, Skip--follow my paw. What d'ye see?"
The otter gazed keenly at the crimsoning sky and darkening horizon before speaking. "There's somebeasts there, I think. A bit far off to tell."
Oakheart Witherspyk drew an elegant crystal monocle from his belt pouch, declaring vainly, "I don't really need this, as I have perfect eyesight. However, I sometimes use it for long-distance objects. Hmm, let me see now, out there, y'say?"
Buckler continued pointing. "Aye, sir, due west."
Squinting his right eyelid around the monocle, he gazed steadily westward. Returning the monocle to his pouch, the florid hedgehog nodded gravely. "I fear you are right, sirrah. Even though they are trying to conceal themselves, there appears to be quite a number of crea
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tures out there. Whether they are vermin, alas, who can say from this distance?"
Buckler questioned Oakheart further. "About how many would you say there are?"
The Witherspyk patriarch shrugged eloquently. "Fourscore, mayhap five. I wouldn't venture to say accurately. But it seems only half the number who turned up outside our walls latterly."
Buckler nodded. "Thank you, Oakie. Oh, by the way, you haven't seen anything of Diggs yet, have you?"
Skipper shook his head. "No, mate. He ain't turned up here yet. Listen, you look tired'n'hungry, Buck. Go with Jango an' his Guosim. Get some vittles in ye an' take a breather. Go on, I'll double the guard on this wall an' keep an eye on the flatlands. If the vermin make a move, you'll be the first to know."
Buckler went gratefully, though as he approached the Abbey's main door, he was intercepted by Abbess Marjoram, who cautioned him, "Supper's being served in Great Hall at the moment. I've sent Jango and his shrews to take theirs down in Cavern Hole. I suggest you join them, Buck."
The young hare was puzzled. "Why's that, marm?"
Marjoram explained, "Because Dymphnia Witherspyk and your brother's wife, Clarinna, and many others who are concerned to hear news of the missing Dibbuns are supping in Great Hall. I know you don't want a lot of questions and tears, especially from Clarinna. But I have faith in you, Buck. You'll find them, if anybeast can. Go on now, off to Cavern Hole with you."
Foremole and Big Bartij joined the diners in Cavern Hole. Over barley broth and mushroom and gravy pasties supplemented by tankards of October Ale, they discussed the imminent danger.
Buckler finished his supper hastily; he already had a solution. "We'll need some of those long old cloaks they're usin' on the walltops. Once it's dark, I'll sneak out by the
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north wallgate. Maybe if I get close enough, I can learn what they're up to. Those old cloaks should give good cover--the dark'll help, too."
Jango rose, patting his stomach. "Right, mate, me'n my Guosim are with ye!"
"Hurr, an' oi, too, zurr. We'm bain't in no rush, so ee h'injured futtpaw won't cause ee no bother." Axtel Sturnclaw shoved the heavy war hammer into his broad belt. Everybeast saw from the look in his fierce eyes that it would be foolish to try stopping him.
Foremole Darbee nodded his admiration of Axtel. "Bur-hoo, oi'd toiler a wurrier loike ee anywheres, zurr. You'm a gurt h'example to ee molers."
Big Bartij chuckled. "He surely is. Mind if'n an ole hog tags along, Mister Buck?"
Buckler bowed courteously. "Only too pleased, my friends. Sniffy, would you do the honour of being front scout?"
The Guosim Tracker licked gravy from his chin. "It'd be me pleasure, sir, an' I 'opes when we gets back 'ere that brekkist'll taste as good as supper did!"
Darkness had descended over the west flatlands as they forded the ditch on the far edge of the outside path. The party plunged waist deep into the channel, which was swirling with water from the recent rains. Crouching low, with drawn weapons, they scurried over the plain, travelling due west.
Slightly ahead of the group, Sniffy scouted the land, pointing out ground-nesting birds, so they would not step on them and startle them into flight.
Buckler spread his force out into a skirmishing line, staying in front of them but behind Sniffy. He tried to concentrate his mind on the task at paw, though his thoughts kept straying to Diggs. The tubby rascal, where had he gone? Was he in any trouble? Would he be safe?
The tick and cheeping sound of distant buntings brought him back to reality. He glanced about, judging the distance