Rakkety Tam Page 15

  Brooky hardly moved her lips as she replied. “Only these two laying down not far from us. They’re both asleep. The beast they call Gulo is over to the left of the fire. I think he’s asleep also. There’s a fox sitting by the edge of the fire—keep an eye on that one. His name’s Captain Shard. He looks like he’s asleep, but you never can tell. He’s a sly one. That’s all.”

  The ropes which had been stretched about the oak trunk at neck height suddenly fell slack. Tam and Doogy crept around to face Armel and Brooky. Tam whipped through the ottermaid’s bonds with his small dagger.

  As Tam handed over his knife to Brooky, he instructed her carefully. “Free your friend, then move quietly around to the back of this tree and wait for us. Give us your cloaks. We’ll need them for the two guards.”

  The Abbeymaids did as they were bidden. They had to wait only a brief moment before the two squirrel warriors returned. Doogy began retying the ropes that had been stretched around the tree, whilst Tam spoke reassuringly to the liberated prisoners. “My friend is binding the guards to this tree. I hope ye didn’t mind us borrowing your cloaks. We’ve dressed them up to look like you two, in case anybeast wakes during the night. Now let’s get away from here as quick an’ silently as possible.”

  Brooky suddenly halted at the sight of the sentry leaning up against the hornbeam, but Doogy urged her onward. “Dinna be feared, lassie, he’ll no’ be botherin’ ye!”

  Neither Abbeymaid had ever encountered a slain creature before. The ottermaid crept gingerly past the dead ermine. “You mean you killed him . . . and the guards?”

  Doogy raised his eyes skyward, as if seeking patience. “Marm, they’re vermin! The foebeasts, ye ken? Would ye sooner be back there roped tae a tree?”

  Armel shook her head. “Please forgive our foolishness. We are more than grateful that you and your friend saved our lives.” She placed her paw upon Tam’s. “I’m sorry. We’ll take the time to thank you properly back at the Abbey. Oh . . . wait!”

  Tam gazed into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. “What is it, miss? We can’t wait, we’ve got to go, fast!”

  The squirrelmaid shook her pretty head. “I must go back for the sword. That fox Shard took it from me. It’s hidden under his cloak!”

  Tam barred her path back to the camp. Puzzled, he enquired, “Sword, what sword? What are you talking about, miss . . . ?”

  “Armel,” she replied. “My name is Sister Armel. Who are you, sir, and where do you come from? Please answer me!”

  Tam was frankly bewildered, but Sister Armel fascinated him. “My name’s Rakkety Tam MacBurl, an’ he’s Wild Doogy Plumm. I’m from up north, the border, but Doogy’s a Highlander. Why?”

  Armel’s eyes shone with joy. She seized Tam’s paw. “The Borderer who is a force for good! Tell me, why aren’t you wearing a sword, Mister MacBurl?”

  Tam was bewildered by her question. “Er, I had to give it up in exchange for something. Why, Sister? Is it important?”

  Armel pressed on with her interrogation. “It’s vital, sir. Would you say that you’d lost your sword?”

  Doogy interrupted. “Aye, marm, ye could say that, but we don’t have time tae stand here gossipin’. Move yersel’, Tam, afore the vermin come after us!”

  Normally Tam would have heeded his friend’s warning, but something he could neither explain nor understand was urging him to listen to the squirrelmaid. “You go, Doogy. Take the ottermaid with ye. I must hear our friend out. We’ll catch up with ye shortly.”

  The Highlander shook his head at Tam’s attitude. “Ah hope ye know what yore doin’, mate. We’ll await ye near the path, where ah left mah shield an’ claymore. Good luck tae ye both!”

  When the Highlander and the ottermaid had gone, Tam turned to Armel. “Doogy’s right, Sister, we shouldn’t stay long here. So, please, tell me what this is all about.”

  Realising the urgency of the situation, the squirrelmaid tried to explain briefly. “In a dream, I was told by a long-dead warrior to take his sword and search for he who pursues the vermin lord. His exact words were ‘The Borderer who is a force for good, that warrior who sold and lost his sword.’ That white fox, Captain Shard, he stole the sword from me. Mister MacBurl, I think you are the warrior who can get it back.”

  The border warrior’s heart melted at the hope shining from the maid’s soft brown eyes. He smiled. “You can call me Tam. I’ll get that sword for ye, Sister, but ye stay out of the way when we get back to the vermin camp. Here, take my little dagger, ye may need it.”

  Armel took the Sgian Dhu, which fitted her paw perfectly. “Thank you, Tam. You may call me Armel.”

  He winked boldly at her. “Lucky me, I’ve lost a sister and gained a friend. Right, let’s go an’ get this sword, Armel!”

  Nothing had stirred in the camp since Tam and Armel left. Vermin slept around the bed of glowing embers that had once been the campfire. Gulo the Savage lay on one side, facing away from the white ashes, his mouth lolling open as he emitted hoarse, rasping snores. Shard sat bent almost double, his shoulders rising and falling beneath his cloak.

  Tam peered from behind the double-topped oak, assuring himself that nobeast was on the alert. Armel crouched alongside the warrior, pointing out the white fox captain.

  “He’s the one. Look, I can see the sword! It’s hanging from his shoulders by a cord. Abbot Humble had the sword wrapped in a soft cloth sheath. See the tip of it sticking out beneath the fox’s cloak, on the left side?”

  Tam nodded. “I can see it now, Armel. Listen, get up into this tree. We’ll travel faster by branch-hoppin’ if they come after us.”

  The squirrelmaid began climbing into the lower boughs. “I was brought up in an Abbey, so I mightn’t be very good at what you call branch-hopping, Tam.”

  Tam flattened himself upon the ground, drawing his dirk. “Don’t fret, you’ll learn. I’ll be with ye.”

  He slid forward carefully, feeling the heat of the glow upon his face. Keeping his eyes on Shard’s back, the warrior crawled up behind him. Reaching out, he touched the sword wrapping, testing it with a gentle tug. Then he froze! Shard moved in his sleep, mumbling incoherently as he pawed at his back. Tam figured that the cord must still be holding the sword to the fox’s shoulders. It was not in his nature to kill a sleeping beast, even one of Gulo’s vermin. With this in mind, there was only one course of action. Reversing his grip on the dirk, he took hold of it by the blade. Standing up straight, Tam brought the heavy bound handle cracking down on his enemy’s head.

  Shard had a thicker skull than the border squirrel had reckoned with. The white fox captain stood up, letting out a howl of pain. Tam struck him again harder; this time the maneuver worked, but not before an ermine awoke, shouting, “Guards! Guards! Attack!”

  The ermine came dashing around the glowing fire remnants toward the intruder, grappling to free the sickle sword from his waist sash. Tam sprang into action. Catching the fox as he fell backward, the squirrel heaved him bodily upon the ermine, sending them both crashing into the fire pit.

  Leaning forward, Tam slashed at the rear of the fox captain’s cloak, ripping it wide and severing the retaining cord of Martin’s sword. He grabbed it and dashed to the oak as an uproar broke out behind him.

  Gulo was bawling, “Yaaaaargh! Cut him down, get him!”

  Bounding up into the oak branches, Tam rapped out orders to Armel, who was waiting wide-eyed with fright. “Jump! Go for the hornbeam!”

  She hesitated a moment, then felt herself pulled out into space as the warrior took her with him, guiding her encouragingly. “That’s the way, mate. Grab that big limb. Now swing yoreself an’ drop down into that elm on the right. Good, keep goin’, onto that yew. Fall across one of the lower branches. Now swing—hup, two, three—straight into the willow. That’s the stuff, Armel. Yore learnin’ fast!”

  Elated by her newfound agility and pleased with Tam’s praise, Redwall’s Infirmary Sister went looping and hurtling through the leafy terraces.


  Tam continued guiding her. “Now run up this sycamore branch and bounce. Push yoreself out. Use that thin elm branch to throw yoreself forward into the beech. Keep goin’, I’m right behind ye. Don’t stop, we’ll soon be at the path!”

  Tam allowed Armel to learn her natural rhythm before he glanced back at the howling crowd of vermin coming through the woodlands. He looped the covered sword around one shoulder, beckoning her to continue. “Carry on, I’ll be with ye in a tick!”

  There were three frontrunners among the vermin, two foxes and an ermine. Another fox was close behind them, rushing to catch up. Tam dropped from the beech, landing on the ground by an aspen. It was a slim, many-branched tree, and very flexible, its lower boughs almost sweeping the grass. He seized the end of a thick, whippy branch and pushed at it, running forward as it bent. The aspen limb was bowed round in an arc. Tam held it a moment until the three front-running vermin were almost upon him. Then he let go of the bough. It came back at the runners like a thunderbolt.

  Whooooosh! Craaaaack! Poleaxed by the force, the trio were knocked flat. Tam raced to them. Grabbing one of the ermine’s spears, he flung it at the fox who had been catching up on them. Unable to stop until the spearpoint met it halfway, the fox fell without a sound, never to rise.

  Doogy could hear the yells of the pursuing vermin. Standing on the path with Armel and Brooky, he called out, “Haway the braaaaw! Over here, laddie!”

  The wild war cry of the Borders and Highlands came back at him from the woodlands. “Haway the braaaaaaw! Here’s a MacBuuuurl!”

  Tam came hurtling through the branches and bounded onto the path. He quickly pulled the dirk from his friend’s belt so that he was double-bladed and ready. “They’re comin’ on fast, mate, but in small bunches! Armel, you an’ yore friend get goin’ with all speed for Redwall. Keep going an’ don’t look back. Go on!”

  The squirrelmaid took one glance at the bloodfire in Rakkety Tam MacBurl’s eyes and decided that this was not a time to stop and argue.

  Doogy began laughing wildly. “Aye, we’ll see ye back at yore Abbey, lassies. Dinna fuss yerselves aboot us!”

  Armel seized Brooky’s paw. “Do as they say!”

  Both maids sped off northward up the path to the Abbey.

  The first six vermin to reach the path saw the two retreating figures in the early dawn light. One of them was a white fox captain named Zerig. He pointed at Armel and Brooky with a spear. “Stop them!”

  Tam and Doogy burst from the ditch, roaring, “Haway the braaaaaaw!”

  They threw themselves ferociously upon the vermin, fighting like madbeasts. Tam took two ermine with a flying thrust from both his dirks. Doogy belted a fox in the throat with a clenched paw, felling an ermine with a swing of the claymore. Zerig was dashing back into the woodlands when Tam threw a dirk which pinned him to a willow. Doogy was countering a fox’s sword when Tam retrieved the dirk and called to him, “Haway now, buckoe, they’re comin’ in force!”

  The Highlander despatched his opponent with a neat lunge as Tam reached his side. Over twoscore more vermin came bursting out of the trees. Seeing six of their own lying slain, they hesitated fractionally. That was all the squirrels required. Taking to their heels, the pair dashed off northward.

  Bulling bush and beast from his path, Gulo burst amid his warriors, bellowing, “Kill kill kill! Chaaaaarge!”

  The vermin thundered onto the path after the two squirrels.

  Tam and Doogy sped on abreast. Looking back fleetingly, Doogy glimpsed the mob of vermin racing madly to catch them up. He frowned. “How far tae this Redwall Abbey, d’ye reckon?”

  Tam kept his eyes on the path ahead. “I don’t know, mate, just keep goin’. I can see Armel an’ her friend way up ahead.”

  The small Highlander winced as an arrow zipped by his head. “Och! Ah hope ’tis soon, ’cos those murderers mean business!”

  “Yore always complainin’, Doogy Plumm. Save y’breath an’ run!”

  Doogy’s paws were hitting the path like pistons. “Run? What d’ye think ah’m doin’, dancin’ a jig?”

  Tam grabbed the front of his comrade’s belt and speeded up his pace. “There’s the Abbey, don’t start flaggin’ now!”

  He risked a backward glance at their pursuers. The vermin were gaining upon them. Gulo, who was not built for sustaining a fast run, was shambling along at the rear.

  Skipper was watching from the southwest wall corner of the Abbey, shouting frantically, “Gordale, get the gates open! Sound the alarm bells! Arm some able-bodied beasts an’ get them to the gates!”

  The otterchief bounded down the wallsteps, still calling orders as the Abbey’s twin bells boomed and clanged out into the bright early morn. “Burlop, ’elp Gordale with the gates! Demple, tell Foremole to get ’is crew to the threshold fast!”

  Boom! Clang! Boom! Clang! The Matthias and Methusaleh bells tolled out their brazen warning throughout Redwall. Creatures poured from the Abbey building, armed with the first thing that came to paw—window poles, broom handles, kitchen pans, knives and barrel staves. Skipper, Gordale and Burlop swung the front Abbey gates open, then dashed out onto the path, bellowing encouragement to the two Abbeymaids.

  “Armel, Brooky, hurry please!”

  “Come on, mates, not far t’go! Run! Run!”

  “Don’t look back, there’s two of ’em catchin’ you up!”

  As Skipper ran to meet them, both maids fell panting into his strong paws.

  Armel gasped out urgently, “That’s Tam and Doogy, they’re friends!”

  Tergen and Ferdimond shot by her. The goshawk was screeching, and the young hare had his rapier drawn.

  “Yeekaaaar! We come, Burl, we come!”

  “C’mon, don’t dawdle, you chaps! Let’s get this bally gate shut, wot!”

  They grabbed the squirrels’ paws, pulling them along the final few paces and rushing them into the Abbey grounds. Skipper had Armel and Brooky inside. Tam and Ferdimond helped him to slam the heavy oaken gates shut. Doogy and Burlop barred them hastily, thrusting the thick, greased timbers into their holders. Willing paws hurried the two Abbeymaids off to the main building as Skipper unwound his sling. “Up on the walls everybeast!”

  The Long Patrol were marching on the double over the western flatlands when the brigadier sighted the Abbey and heard the bells. Even from far off he suddenly made out the figures speeding along the path to Redwall. Throwing caution and order to the winds, he raced forward, wielding his swagger stick like a drum major. “Long Patrol, chaaaaaarge!”

  Swords, lances and spears flashed in the spring morning as the regiment broke ranks, thundering toward the Abbey with their blood-curdling war cry ripping through the air. “Eulaliiiiiaaaaaaa!”

  Crowding the battlements, the Abbey creatures set up a joyful cheer at the sight of a hundred gallant hares charging to their aid.

  “Hooray for the Long Patrol!”

  “Give ’em blood’n’vinegar! Redwaaaaaalllll!”

  The forty-odd vermin who had been in pursuit of Tam and the escapers stopped running. They were strung out all along the path. Gulo the Savage was a reckless fighter, but he was not a complete fool. With the rest of his force back at the camp, the wolverine knew he was heavily outnumbered.

  He sought out the white fox, Captain Urfig. “All those with bows, tell them to release a volley. Then follow us into the woodlands, back to the camp!”

  Urfig swiftly gathered a dozen archers, positioning them at the edge of the ditch. They notched shafts to their bowstrings, sighting on the oncoming hares. Sergeant Wonwill was with the frontrunners. Though unable to halt the headlong stampede, he ran up front for all he was worth with Crumshaw alongside him, both calling orders amid the war cries.

  “Archers t’the front ahead, slow down!”

  “Slow down an’ fall flat! Attention to the h’officers!”

  Most of the veterans heeded the commands, throwing themselves flat in the dewy grass. Some of the younger element,
however, fired by the wild rush and eager to distinguish themselves in battle, actually increased their speed, rushing headlong at the enemy. Foremost among these were the twin gallopers, Kersey and Dauncey. A volley of shafts shot from the vermin bows, humming and zipping like maddened hornets. Crumshaw threw himself forward. An arrow pierced his shoulder as he hit Kersey, knocking her flat. Dauncey halted abruptly. For a few moments the young hare scout stood swaying, gaping at the two shafts buried in his chest, then fell slowly into a kneeling position. Wonwill pushed himself into a somersault, reaching the stricken hare and holding him closely. Then the sergeant lowered him gently back upon the ground.

  The young galloper stared up into Wonwill’s battered face questioningly. “Eulalia, sah, charge to the bells. Elali. . . .”

  Dauncey’s head fell to one side as his eyes clouded over.

  The vermin archers were fitting more shafts to their strings. Looking about, Captain Urfig saw that they were alone on the path and that the hares were rising to renew their charge.

  The vermin captain shouted out urgent orders. “Shoot quick an’ retreat back into the woodlands!” He whirled about as a roar came from the battlements.

  “Haway braaaaaaw!” Rakkety Tam MacBurl and Wild Doogy Plumm were climbing down the Abbey walls, as only two skilful squirrel warriors could. Doogy had his claymore between his teeth; Tam had his jaw clamped around the sword of Martin. The vermin broke and fled, but the two warriors were hard on their paws. Urfig panicked and ran the wrong way. Four others in his vermin gang—two foxes and two ermine—went with him, leaping into the ditch. Doogy threw himself in behind them. They turned to run, but Tam had raced down the path ahead of them. Dropping himself down into the ditch, the border warrior now faced all five of his foes.

  Skipper, Ferdimond and Tergen were unbarring the gates when Yoofus scuttled up, waving Tam’s claymore. “Let me at the dirty ould villains. Sure I’ll carve their tails from their throttles!”