Martin The Warrior Part 17

Further along the path, Martin and Rose fell about laughing as Pallum imitated the hungry Grumm at tea, taking both the parts of the mole and Mrs. Mildwort Mirdop.

"Burr, oi'm pow'ful 'ungry, give oi a scone, missus!" "No no, you nasty rough mole, one is quite sufficient!" "Hurr, then give oi summ zoop, marm." "Soup? Lack a season, the ruffian will eat us out of house and burrow. Go away and be off with you, you gluttonous beast!"

Grumm drew his ladle and shook it at Pallum. "One moor wurd out of 'ee an' oi'll raise a b.u.mp on you'm spikers!"

Late that evening they reached the forest edge. Standing on a small rise, they looked down on the great West Marshes spreading as far as the eye could see. Gra.s.shoppers chirruped in the short hillgra.s.s and myriad swarms of flies and midges were everywhere.

Rose shooed a cloud away with a dead fern. "Whew! I'm not sleeping the night out here. Let's go back and camp in the fringe of the trees. We can face this lot in the morning."

They slumped down wearily beneath a sycamore and a beech. A slithering nearby caused Martin to jump up. Two long slowworms snaked away hissing noisily, disturbed from their rest. The creatures made no move to attack, but Martin stood with short sword drawn watching them slither down the side of the rise toward 170.

the marshes. Pallum began collecting dry firewood and digging a shallow pit.

"It's all right, they're only slowworms. Evil-looking reptiles, they do lojs of hissing but they can't really harm you. Right, Grumm, what'll it be? Cuc.u.mber sandwiches or one scone apiece?"

The mole was busy digging out some mushrooms he had found. He looked up, shaking soil from his snout energetically. "Zoop, we'm 'aven zoop! Aye, an' oi'll make a pudden too, wi' some apple an' blackberries growen over yonder."

Night fell warm and mild, with the small fire burning red as they sat around it, well fed and satisfied with their day's progress.

"Tut tut, Mr. Grumm the Growler," Rose teased Grumm. "If I were you I'd put half that pudding away for the morrow. You've eaten far too much already and it's way past your bedtime!"

The mole looked up from a ladleful of pudding and snorted, "Oi should've left you'm be'oind wi' they Mirk-dops, mizzy. Teach you'm some manners, hurr!"

They watched a full moon move silently from behind pillowy night-cloud formations, it hung in the sky like a still, new-polished silver coin.

The two slowworms had returned. With them was a band of lizards twoscore strong. Their tongues slid silently in and out, filmy eyes blinking constantly against the dry warmth of the night. The two slowworms indicated where the sleeping travellers lay by thrusting their heads forward and hissing. The lizard leader, a great red-frilled reptile, nodded his head slowly as he watched the glow from the red embers of the fire dying lower. Soon the fire would be cold and the four travellers deep in sleep. The lizards waited patiently, watching their leader, waiting for him to move.

171.

2O.

It was fully dawn when the escaped slaves and the Rambling Rosehip Players made their way back to the hide-out on the southern cliffs. Puffing and panting, they threw themselves down on the gra.s.s and lay in the cool morning breeze. Gauchee came later than the rest. She had been watching their backtrack, covering the cart marks and keeping a wary eye peeled for pursuers. The mouse sat with her back to the cart.

"n.o.beast following us, they must still be busy righting among each other."

Ballaw flopped his long ears thoughtfully from side to side. "Maybe so, but they'll try and find us. I can't imagine old Badthingy lettin' half his slaves an' us off that lightly. We'd be best postin' a guard. I'll take first watch, me an' this jolly-lookin' young mousey feller here. What's your name, sir?"

"They call me Juniper."

"Righto, Juno, me old nipper, you an' me are first guard."

Rowanoak blew tenderly on her paws. "Ooh, that's better! This das.h.i.+ng about all night doesn't suit me any more. Not as young as I used to be. Kastern, what are you up to this morning?"

"Well, there's lot of new mouths to feed," the sensible 172.

young mousemaid explained, "so I'm going to organize a forage party, see what we can find to swell our larder out a bit. I'll take sonje of our new companions when they've had a rest and a bite of breakfast."

Rowanoak liked to keep her paw on the pulse of activities in camp. She sat down and began ma.s.saging her footpaws.

"Hmm, good idea. Who's on cooking duties this morning?"

Trefoil wiped wheat flour from her paws on a dock-leaf. "It looks like it's me again. I did it yesterday too. That Celandine was supposed to take her turn today, but she's probably off fluttering her pretty eyelashes at the new arrivals and enchanting them all."

"Oh, is she. Well, I'm not having any of that!" Rowanoak stood up decisively. "There are no s.h.i.+rkers in this troupe, everybeast pulls their weight. Where is she? Celandine! Celandine, it's no use hiding, missy. I want a word with you, m'lady!"

Rowanoak searched the camp several times before she began to get worried. n.o.beast had seen the pretty squirrelmaid.

Ballaw left sentry duty a moment to call an a.s.sembly.

"Attention please. Has anyone seen Celandine?"

Barkjon held a healing poultice of herbs to his injured shoulder. The wound was not as serious as it had appeared the previous night. Felldoh held his father's head upright as Brome fed him soup from a scallop sh.e.l.l.

"Drink up, sir. This is made from green nettles and I don't know what, supposed to help recovery."

The old squirrel licked his lips as he finished the soup. "It tastes very nice. What's going on over there, some sort of meeting?"

"It's a young squirrelmaid, one of the company she's missing."

Barkjon sat up a bit, resting his back against his son's 173.

paws. With his eyes half-closed he nodded slowly. "I remember now. Was she an extremely pretty creature?"

Brome put aside the empty sh.e.l.l. "Oh yes, d'you recall her?"

"Indeed I do. Though I was only half conscious, I remember seeing her face over the back of the cart as she pushed. I thought she was the nicest-looking squirrel I had ever seen. I must have dozed off awhile, because when I woke she wasn't there any more. Perhaps she tripped and fell."

"Aye." Brome nodded, recalling the wild dash from Marshank. "We were going so fast that n.o.beast would have noticed. She's either lost or captured by now."

Felldoh laid his father down carefully. "If she's lost I'll find her."

Barkjon struggled to get up. "But what if she's captured, son?"

"Then I'll free her, or die trying!" Felldoh's strong face radiated anger and hatred. He strode off, leaving Brome and Barkjon gazing after him.

The old squirrel shook his head. "Let him go, Brome. There is a great rage in my son against all that Marshank stands for. You were only there a short while, he has spent most of his life as a slave. I know how he feels."

Soon the news was all over the camp that Celandine was either lost or captured. Ballaw posted Buckler on guard with Juniper. He conferred with Rowanoak awhile, then they both went to talk with Felldoh.

The squirrel was sitting by the fire. At his side lay a pile of short heavy driftwood lances. He was hardening their points to needle sharpness by burning and rubbing them on a rock. Felldoh was intent on his work and he did not even bother to look up as the hare and badger approached.

"What ho, treejumper. Looks like you're armin' yourself up to start a one beast war there, wot?"

Felldoh continued sharpening the short lances as he 174.

replied, "Whatever it takes, I've got scores to settle at Marshank."

Rowanoak squatted alongside Him. "Need any help, Felldoh?"

He pulled another lance from the fire and began grinding it to a point on the rock. "It's not your fight. I got your troupe into this, and it's time I did a bit myself without endangering others."

Rowanoak nodded understandingly, realizing Felldoh was in no mood to be argued with. She watched him awhile before picking up one of the lances and weighing it in her paw. "How far can you throw one of these things?"

Felldoh took the lance and stood up. "Far enough. My muscles are stronger than most after seasons working in Badrang's rock quarry." He threw the lance from the cliff top. It sailed out over the beach a fair distance before burying itself point first in the sand.

"Not bad at all." Rowanoak winked at the hare. "Ballaw and I can throw a short lance twice that distance."

"I'd like to see you try!" Felldoh laughed humor-lessly.

Ballaw sought around until he came up with a piece of driftwood not quite as long as the lances Felldoh was making. Taking a knife, he cut a deep notch across one end of the wood, then hefted it and made several throwing motions. A few more adjustments to the wood with his knife and Ballaw nodded with satisfaction.

"That's about right, old chap. Pa.s.s me a javelin-any one'll do."

Felldoh selected one of the short heavy javelins and gave it to Ballaw. The hare laid the javelin flat along his piece of wood, point forward and the other end resting against the notch he had cut. With the weapon lying flat on the wood against the notch, he drew back his arm, took a short hopskip and flung out, holding on to the wood. The javelin soared away, pa.s.sing Felldoh's 175.

weapon on the beach, travelling onward and finally splas.h.i.+ng down into the water on the tideline, almost out of sight. Felldoh gasped as Ballaw gave him the piece of wood.

"Here, old lad, you have it. Simple device, eh wot? Makes your throwing arm twice its length and gives you double the distance."

Felldoh looked at the javelin launcher as Ballaw continued, "We've won many a supper at tribe gatherings in the south with one of those. There was always some big brawny beast wagered he could throw a javelin farther than me or Rowanoak."

The badger offered her paw to Felldoh. "Now do you want our help?"

Felldoh grasped the big paw, his eyes alight with resolve. "Let's go and see if they've got Celandine at Marshank!"

Accusations flew thick and fast at Marshank, Clogg and Badrang blaming the whole thing on one another in the wake of the confusion at the rear wall. While the remainder of the slaves were under heavy guard, the other corsairs and horde members gathered in the courtyard to witness the argument raging between their leaders. It was a fine show of rage, spleen and insults.

"Hah, Lord 'igh an' mighty Badrang, is it? Can't 'old on to arf a pa.s.sel of defenceless slavebeasts. Yore a lob-stertail!"

"I'd sooner be anything but a complete idiot who lets the enemy into Marshank and has the gall to call them friends. You always did keep your brains in your clogs, Tramun, you buffoon!"

"Buffoon yerself. Ye blown up pollywoggle! There was me an' the crew nearly catchin' those creatures, an' wot did you do? Jumped off the wall on to our 'eads, you jellyfis.h.!.+"

"Jellyfish? You're the one who started all this mess, addlebrain!"

176.

"Oh, is that so? Then who set fire to my s.h.i.+p and who let the slaves escape? You've brought bad luck on both of us, fiddlebrain!" *

"Shut your mouth, you pigtailed poltroon, or I'll shut it for you!"

"Haharr, now yore flyin' yer true colours, jugnose. I'm not stoppin' round 'ere to bandy words with the like o' you, I'm off to do somethin' useful. Gruzzle, Boggs, form the crew up fully armed."

"Hold hard there, woodenpaws. Where d'you think you're off to?"

"Well, clean out yer mucky lugs an' lissen whilst I tell yer. Those slaves that escaped last night is now free beasts, you got no jurisdiction over 'em anymore, Bad-rang yore Lords.h.i.+p. So, if any beast were to recapture 'em, then they'd belong to the finder, an' that'll be me if yer please. Come on, lads. Away, boat's crew!"

Badrang watched Clogg and his crew march off through Marshank's front gates.

"Shall we form the horde up and stop 'em, Lord?" Gurrad whispered anxiously to the Tyrant.

Badrang gave the rat a withering glance. "Stop them, what for? Let me do the thinking, Gurrad. If Clogg recaptures the slaves, where's he going to take them, what's he going to feed them on, where's he going to keep them penned up?"

Gurrad looked puzzled, "I don't know, Lord. Where?"

Badrang tapped a paw against his skull. "That's why you're a hordebeast and I'm a leader, Gurrad. What else can Clogg do but bring them back here. When he does, I'll take them from him. So, what could be simpler than allowing Cap'n Tramun Clogg to be our slave chaser."

Gurrad sn.i.g.g.e.red gleefully, rubbing his paws together. "You're a clever one, Sire. A real clever one!"

Badrang buffed his claws on his fir and inspected them. "I could buy and sell an oaf like Clogg anyday. He'll soon find that out to his cost."

177.

Celandine was lost. When she tripped and fell while running through the night with the cart, the young squir-relmaid had cracked her head and pa.s.sed out on the spot. Dawn had broken a full hour before she came to. Celandine's first reaction was to sit and cry, and she did so. Sobbing and wailing broken-heartedly, she lay on the clifftop, kicking her footpaws and nursing a bruised lump, just below her ear near her jawline. At regular intervals she would stop and sniff, calling out the names of Ballaw, Rowanoak, Buckler and Felldoh. Hearing no reply, the pretty squirrelmaid would throw herself back full-throated into a bout of copious bellowing and weeping. Why did no one come? There was always somebeast round to dance attention when tears flowed down her beautiful face. It took quite a long time for Celandine to realize that she was totally alone, so she set about doing what she did best, preening herself and attending to her looks. She brushed, licked, dusted and primped, holding her head coyly on one side so that the curve of her bushy tail hid the unsightly b.u.mp she had suffered. Then she sat again and bemoaned her fate aloud to the bright morning air.

"Owwww! Why doesn't somebeast come for me? My head's aching and I must look a dreadful sight. Owww! I'm hungry and thirsty and dusty and dirty and now I'm lost. Owoooh!"

The weasel Floater had been scouting ahead. He made his way back to where Clogg was leading the crew.

"No tracks of the carts, Cap'n. They finish over yonder. Musta been somebeast coverin' the trail."

Clogg looked at the ground, chewing one of his beard plaits. "Covered, ye say? Bad fortune fer us, matey. Lookit, 'ere comes ole Crosstooth. May'ap 'e 'as some news.

The fox pointed at a tangent to where the cart tracks had finished. "Found a set of pawprints goin' thataway, Cap'n, but 'tis only one beast."

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Clogg spat the plait out and scratched his nose. "Cfcie beast is better than none I allus says mate, lead on!"

They had not gone far when the sounds of Celandine's lamentations reached their ears. Tramun Clogg signalled for silence. Bellying down, the corsairs breasted a low hill. They peered over at the weeping squirrelmaid.

Gruzzle shook his head sympathetically. "Ain't she pretty, Cap'n. It's enough t' break yer 'eart!"

Clogg chewed at a dandelion still attached to its stem. "Aye, 'tis sad, matey, an' even sadder when I thinks of the way I'm goin' to make that liddle beauty wail when I tickles some information out o' her with me cutla.s.s point."

Celandine was still crying and talking aloud to herself.

"Oh, why don't any of the troupe come and find me? Owww! Oh dear, I mustn't weep so much or I'll look all ugly and puffy."

"Ho, that ye will, me liddle weepin' willow. Come on now, dry yore eyes an' give ole uncle Clogg a big smile!"

Celandine looked up in terror. Standing not ten paces from her was the corsair stoat and his villainous crew. She choked out a small frightened whimper as Clogg drew his cutla.s.s and advanced on her, grinning wickedly.

179.

21.

Martin and his friends were captured so quickly it made their heads whirl. One moment they were sleeping peacefully, and in a twinkling they were dragged up on to their footpaws. Tough vine ropes secured their paws tight with nooses that locked around their necks. The dark slithering shapes of lizards were everywhere, slinking around the treetrunks and writhing over each other, making no other sound than a sibilant hiss.