Mariel Of Redwall Read online

  ‘Well, he fair shocked me, I can tell ’ee. Young Durry were always a quiet sort of ’og, good worker too. If you were to ask me I’d say as ’ee were led astray by that Storm Gullywhacker. My word, she’s a wild ’un fer a liddle mouse, that she is.’

  ‘If the three were gone together then I think it is for the best.’

  Mother Mellus pushed aside her plate. ‘How can you say that, Simeon?’

  ‘Because either Dandin or Mariel has the spirit of Martin the Warrior walking alongside them, though I am not sure which one it is.’

  Abbot Bernard looked thankfully towards his friend. ‘Well, bless the seasons! Tell me more of this, friend Simeon.’

  Mellus, ever the big practical badger mother, stood up from the table. ‘I’m off to my bed, can’t stop around here all night with young ’uns missing and you lot yarning away bout long-dead warriors. Martin or no Martin, first thing tomorrow I’m putting that big otter, wotsisname, Flagg, out on their trail. He’ll bring the rascals back!’

  When she had gone, blind Simeon began recounting his strange but wondrous experience.

  ‘It happened last night as I sat dozing in my chair by the window. Oh, pour me some October ale, will you, Gabe – my throat’s a bit dry.’

  Somewhere out in the darkness a young blackbird chirruped as its mother drew it under her wing against the all-enveloping night.

  Dawn broke grey with an unexpected shroud of drizzling rain. The four travellers were abroad early, continuing their northward trek upon the path. The flatlands to the west had been left behind after the ford, now the forest dosed in either side of the path.

  ‘Pretty good this, wot? The jolly old trees leaning over are like an umbrella, dontcha think?’

  Durry shook himself. ‘No I don’t, if tain’t churnin’ up the path into mud this rain is a drippin’ off those trees on to the back of ’ee neck. Still, as my old nuncle allus says, if it be rainin’ then there do be water pourin’ from the sky.’

  Mariel smiled and winked at Tarquin. ‘A wise fellow, your old uncle.’

  Durry nodded in innocent agreement. ‘Oh aye, Nuncle Gabe’s never short of wise sayin’s. There do be no better way o’ eatin’ than with ’ee mouth, a full barrel’s not an empty ’un, an’ ’ee can allus tell a squirrel by his tail.’

  Tarquin chuckled as he tuned his harolina. ‘Hmm, that makes sense.’

  Durry sniffed. ‘A course it do. Bet you never see’d a squirrel wi’out one o’ those lollopin’ great bushy tails, did you?’

  ‘Er, ah, no, don’t s’pose I did, really.’

  ‘There, that goes to show ’ee then. You can allus tell a squirrel by his tail, jus’ like my nuncle says.’

  Dandin kept in close to the pathside. ‘The rain’s getting heavier.’

  There was a distant roll of thunder, lightning illuminated the sky. As they trudged on Durry whispered to Dandin, ‘Lookit, Mariel’s dropped back. ‘Ppears to me she’s shiverin’ an’ un’appy about summat.’

  They hurried back to Mariel. She was clutching herself, rain dripping from her face and paws, shivering as she faltered along the path.

  Dandin looked worried. ‘Mariel, what’s the matter with you?’

  The mousemaid leaned against a spruce tree. ‘Thunder, the rain and the lightning. . . . Reminded me of being thrown in the sea by Gabool . . . Terramort, my father . . .’

  Tarquin took charge. ‘Golly, you look like a whitewashed duck, old thing. Here, Dandin, lend a paw. We’ll get her under some dry trees and light a fire, she’d better rest up until this lot clears.’

  Slightly off the path on the east side they found a fir grove. Durry dug a shallow pit and kindled a small fire with dead branches and dry pine needles. With her back against a fir, Mariel sat dozing, soaking in the warmth of the fragrant dry atmosphere. Beyond the trees the rain pounded hard against the path, sending up brown splotches as it churned the dust to mud. Durry brewed some sage and mint tea, and they sipped the steaming liquid gratefully.

  About halfway through the morning Dandin became aware that they were being watched by something crouching in the grass on their left. Slowly he unsheathed the sword, signalling with his eyes to Tarquin and Durry. All three rose quietly and moved towards the long grass until they could see the watcher.

  It was a large snake!

  Dandin had never seen a snake before, though he had heard many stories at Redwall of the dangerous poisonteeth. He felt a shiver convulse his whole body at the sight of the slithering coils, the flickering tongue and the twin beads of cold ruthlessness of the reptile’s eyes. It came clear of the long grass, hissing and weaving its head from side to side as it menaced them. Dandin unsheathed his sword, whispering to Tarquin, ‘What do we do now? It looks very dangerous.’

  The hare took the nearest weapon to paw, his haversack of food. He stood at ease, swinging it experimentally as he replied, ‘Nothing to worry about really, old bean. See those black markings on the thing’s back? Well, that’s supposed to be an adder. Camouflage, I think – the bally creature’s a bit small for an adder, take my word, laddie. There’s lots of harmless grass snakes who mark themselves up with plant dyes an’ whatnot, just so travellers like you an’ I will think they’re adders an’ become frightened of ’em.’

  Dandin kept his sword pointed at the serpent’s head. ‘D’you think so, Tarquin?’

  “Course I do, old son,’ the confident hare snorted. ‘The blighter’s a fraud, a blinkin’ charlatan. Right then, you dreadful snake thingy. Move out or I’ll brain you on the bonce with this havvysack, d’you hear?’

  The snake, however, had other ideas. It had fixed its reptilian stare on Durry Quill and was gliding slowly towards him. Durry stood rooted to the spot, trembling and unable to move under the hypnotic spell of the reptile’s evil eyes.

  Sitting in a half-slumber, Mariel gradually noticed that some creature was talking to her. She opened her eyes partially and saw the armour-clad figure of the dream mouse warrior whom Dandin had called Martin. His voice was strong and stern.

  ‘Mariel, rise up, your friends are in danger. Rise up Mariel!’

  The mousemaid’s eyes snapped open. She took in the situation at a single glance. Throwing caution to the winds, she acted swiftly.

  The snake’s eyes were fixed on Durry as Mariel grabbed her Gullwhacker. With a mad, silent dash and a mighty leap the mousemaid jumped clear over the snake’s head, bringing the knotted rope down with a mighty crack on the reptile’s flat head as she travelled through the air. The snake instantly dropped like a limp piece of cord, stunned by the sudden impact of the blow.

  ‘Durry, are you all right? Durry, speak to me!’

  The young hedgehog blinked and rubbed his eyes as Dandin flung a beaker of cold sage and mint tea into his friend’s face.

  ‘Phwaaw! I’d sooner be in yon ford wi’ pikes than lookin’ at that bad thing. I don’t reckon that were no grass snake.’

  Tarquin took a quick close look at the snake, which was beginning to recover speedily.

  ‘Nor do I, old fellah. Still, a chap’s allowed a mistake or two, wot? The bally thing’s a real adder! Oh, not a fully grown one, I’ll grant you, but nevertheless . . .’

  Dandin grabbed the hare, shoving him out upon the rain-spattered path. ‘Quick, let’s get out of here. We’re not stopping to argue with an adder. Come on, the rain’ll put those fire embers out.’

  Grabbing their packs, they dashed out of the grove on to the path, stumbling and squelching as the snake’s angry hiss sounded behind them.

  Mariel felt much better as she ran alongside her companions. Pounding along the muddy path with the rain bouncing off them, they kept up a breakneck pace until they were certain the adder was far behind them. Further along the road they halted, heads bowed, panting and blowing as they fought to regain their breath. Dandin glared at Tarquin. ‘Don’t ever do that again, friend.’

  Tarquin shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Sorry, old bean. How was I t’ know?’

  Dur
ry shuddered. ‘You should’ve chopped offen its head wi’ that sword when you ’ad the chance, Dandin.’

  Mariel shook her head. ‘No, we do not need unnecessary killing, Durry. As long as we are safe and in one piece, the adder has a right to life, the same as any creature.’

  By early afternoon the black cloud had shifted. The rain halted abruptly and a warm wind chased broken white clouds across a blue sky considerably brightened by the sun. The companions took food upon the path, walking as they ate. Steam and vapour rose from their wet fur and clothing as they tramped northwards. Durry’s spirits rose, even to performing a passable imitation of Tarquin’s flippant attitude.

  ‘Ho, I say, old bean, be that a woodpigeon or a great eagle? Blow me, I do believe it’s carryin’ me off over the jolly ol’ treetops to eat me all up. Ho dearie me, I don’t s’pose it’s a woodpigeon. Must’ve made a jolly ol’ mistake, wot wot?’

  Tarquin took the ragging in his carefree stride.

  ‘Well, roast my aunt’s chestnuts, was that a hedgehog or a noisy pincushion? No, it couldn’t be, I s’pose it was a jolly old talkin’ gooseberry, bit too spiky to bake in a pie, so somebeast slung it out on to the path and it’s followin’ us.’

  Mariel looped Gullwhacker swiftly about Tarquin’s shoulders. ‘Look out, it’s an adder just dropped out of a tree!’

  ‘Yaaagh! Whoohooh! Don’t do that, miss. You frightened me half t’ death.’

  Dandin had been watching the way ahead. He pointed forward. ‘Look, there’s the otter and his wife!’

  Durry kept up his banter. ‘No tain’t, it’s the frog an’ his gran’father.’

  But Dandin was sure of what he could see. ‘Stop fooling around, Durry. Can’t you see? Look on the left side of the path further on – it is the otter and his wife.’

  Mariel smiled. ‘Yes, you’re right, Dandin, though I never thought the otter and his wife would look like that!’

  18

  IT WAS AN ill-tempered and pawsore crew that blundered their way through Mossflower led by Pakatugg, whom Greypatch prodded ahead of them by swordpoint. Far behind them the Darkqueen lay hidden in the creek.

  Bigfang as usual was voicing his thoughts aloud. ‘We could be traipsin’ anywheres, mates. I reckon we’re lost. Leavin’ Darkqueen deserted like that. Me an’ Kybo or any couple of us could have stayed back as sentries. I tell yer, mates, it’s a bad omen, us lost out ’ere in the forest an’ Darkqueen wi’out a guard to watch her.’

  Greypatch gritted his teeth. Pushing the reluctant hedgehog pathfinder forward, he called back, ‘That loudmouth sounds like Bigfang again. Don’t worry, matey, I can hear ye. If you like to go back an’ mount sentry on Darkqueen, don’t let me stop yer. Take Kybo too, if ye’ve a mind. Aye, y’can laze about on the ship’s deck while yer messmates do all the marchin’ an’ fightin’ for you. Is that what ye want?’

  Bigfang knew he was trying Greypatch’s patience, but he continued, hoping for some support from the rest of the searats.

  ‘It’s not like the open sea, messmates. This filthy jungle’s so thick you can’t tell thither from yon. Aye, I still reckons we’re lost. An’ it ain’t right leavin’ our only ship undefended . . .’

  Greypatch tugged on the halter around Pakatugg’s neck, bringing him up sharp. His single eye glared so hard at Bigfang that the complaining searat took a step back.

  Greypatch’s tone was dangerously level. ‘Right, bucko, get back to the ship. Go on, take two more with yeh. If one o’ Gabool’s craft sailed up that creek fully crewed, what d’yer think three, or even four, could do against it, eh? Nothin’! Not a thing, addlebrain. The ship’s safe layin’ hidden in that backwater; nobeast is goin’ to find her. I need every fightin’ rat I’ve got for what lays ahead. Now get marchin’, afore I cuts yer adrift an’ leaves you for lost in these woods. One more word from ye, Bigfang, that’s all. Just one peep!’

  Unaccustomed to the foreign woodland, the crew stumbled on for the remainder of the day, insect-bitten and nettlestung, thrashing at the undergrowth with dagger and cutlass. Greypatch led his sullen band, whilst muttering dire threats to Pakatugg on the consequences of leading them astray.

  Evening shades were drawing close as Greypatch and his crew sighted Redwall Abbey. The searat Captain tugged sharply on the rope halter, dragging the miserable Pakatugg back from the path into the cover of Mossflower Woods. Greypatch pricked the squirrel’s chin with his dagger tip.

  ‘So that’s Redwall Abbey, eh, mate. You did well. I don’t reckon there’d be as cosy a berth within a season’s march of here.’

  Bigfang hefted a spear. ‘Come on, let’s rip ’em apart an’ take the place.’

  Kybo and the others moved forward, weapons at the ready. As Bigfang took up the lead position, Greyfang tripped him. He fell heavily, half rising to find Greypatch’s sword edge at his throat.

  ‘Didn’t take yer long to vote yerself in as Captain round ’ere, did it, Bigfang?’

  ‘You said it was a cosy berth. Let’s take it, less’n you’re scared.’

  Greypatch kicked Bigfang flat on his back, his single eye watching the rebellious crewrat scornfully.

  ‘Careful isn’t scared, mate. I’m careful. Who knows how many are behind those walls, or what manner of creatures they are. All that’s got to be found out, then we’ll have the measure o’ them. Now take you, Bigfang. You’re not scared, are yer, bucko? No, you’re stupid! Thick’eaded an’ dimwitted, that’s you. Harken, you scum. Anyone wants to challenge me as Cap’n, let that rat do it now an’ we’ll settle it right ’ere.’

  There was a murmur and a shuffle from among the large rough contingent, but no rat took up the challenge. Greypatch nodded with satisfaction, he swung his sword and cut through a tuft of Bigfang’s whiskers before turning confidently away from his former adversary.

  ‘Good, that’s as it should be. I’m Cap’n ’ere – me, Greypatch. ’Twas me that brought you ’ere; without me you’d still be servin’ crazy Gabool, wonderin’ who’d be next to feed the fishes, worryin’ whether you’d looked at him the wrong way an’ were due to wake up with a dagger in yer back. Trust me, lads, an’ we’ll live off the fat o’the land.’

  Ranzo stood alongside Greypatch, brandishing a cutlass. ‘We’re with you, Cap’n. You just issue orders an’ we’ll be there.’

  Greypatch lounged against a tree and plucked a low-hanging pear. ‘Lookit that, will yer! Vittles a-growin’ on trees, by thunder! What we’ll do is this. We’ll drop anchor ’ere for the night, then at the crack o’ dawn tomorrow when they’re all nice an’ peaceful, we’ll drop over an’ pay ’em a visit.’

  He threw the halter over a limb of the tree, tugging it slightly so that the miserable Pakatugg had to stand on tip-paws.

  ‘As fer you, matey, you stand by ’ere. I’ll need you on the morrow. Don’t try any funny moves now, or there won’t be only pears hangin’ from this tree!’

  Simeon stood upon the west wall ramparts with his friend the Abbot, as they did most evenings before turning in.

  ‘More rain tomorrow, do you think, Simeon?’

  ‘No, Bernard. It will be a fine hot summerday with hardly a cloud in the sky. The weather should stay fine for Mariel and her party. I wonder where they are now.’

  ‘Who can say? Rushing and dashing off on quests and adventures – it must be nice to be young and have all that energy.’

  Simeon smiled. ‘Talking about energy and youthfulness, I think I hear Mellus coming from the woods with her party of Dibbuns. I hope their wildberry-gathering expedition was a success.’

  Abbot Bernard folded his paws into the wide habit sleeves. ‘Success or not, maybe it has tired them out and they’ll sleep soundly tonight. Where are they now, Simeon?’

  The blind herbalist inclined his head to one side, listening carefully. ‘Just coming out of the woodlands slightly northeast of here. Can you see them yet, Bernard?’

  ‘Ah yes. Poor Mellus looks as if she’s had a full day of it. Rather her than me
. I used to take them out when I was younger, but we never had a pair like those little otter twins Bagg and Runn then. Don’t think I could put up with a full day’s wildberry gathering in Mossflower with that pair. Mellus has seen us, she’s waving.’

  Simeon turned in the direction of the badger and waved back. ‘Mother Mellus, how did the berry gathering go today?’

  Mellus’s gruff boom rang up from the path below. ‘It was good, Simeon. I got some herbs that you may need too; arrowhead, motherwort, pennybright, oh, and some slippery elm bark.’

  ‘Thank you, friend. I hope Bagg and Runn behaved themselves.’

  ‘Surprisingly, they did. Those two collected more berries than the rest put together. That little mole Grubb was the naughty one today. The wretch covered me in stickybuds while I took my lunchtime nap, then he began eating the berries the other Dibbuns had collected and he tied three little mouse’s tails together with vines. Next time he can stay behind in the kitchens and help Friar Alder to peel vegetables. Where is he now? Hey, come back here, you little rip!’

  Baby Grubb had run off in the opposite direction from the Abbey and was scuttling along at a fair rate. Away he went up the north path, chattering to himself.

  ‘Burr, oim agoen’ to foind a’ventures wi’ Gullywhacker an’ ’ee others.’

  Mother Mellus broke into a shambling run. ‘Come back this instant, you little rogue. You’re going to bed!’

  Grubb trotted off the path, into the woodlands. Greypatch and Frink, hiding behind a broad oak, watched the infant mole unsuspectingly coming towards them. The searat Captain held a noosed rope ready.

  ‘There ain’t nothin’ like a baby ’ostage to make things easy,’ he whispered to his crewrat.