Treading carefully, he moved off in the direction of Log a Log's call. Pointing to broken nettles and ferns, the shrew Chieftain nodded northward.

"Two beasts, runnin' hard. Storm never made these tracks!"

Skipper inspected some blurred dents in the ground. "Rain's ruined these prints, but I'd guess they was made sometime yesterday, by the water that's collected in 'em. Let's foller an' see who's makin' the pawprints."

Broken shrubbery, disturbed loam, scratched earth and torn-off leaves were simple to see. No storm could have left such a clear, narrow pattern.

Now that the drizzle had stopped, sunrays cast a mottle of light and shade over the still waters of a peaceful stream, drifting through the woodlands. Pale blue smoke twined lazily upward from a small fire on the bank. The remains of four ruddfish lay amid some half-eaten pears in the smouldering ashes. The two stoats, Burgogg and Wicky, sprawled on the bank, footpaws dabbling in the shallows as they picked their teeth with the ruddfish bones. Bur- gogg smiled contentedly and belched.

Wicky flicked a fishbone at him. "Beggin' yore pardon!" Burgogg shot him a quizzical glance. "Why, what've yer done?"

Wicky shook his head at the other's ignorance. "That's wot yer supposed t'say after doin' that. 'Aven't yew got no manners at all?"

Burgogg belched again. "No, enny'ow, who needs manners? I never begged n.o.beast's pardon in me life. Let 'em go an' pardon theirselves!" He giggled. "I think we should stay 'ere ferever. Those daft fishes 'ave been swimmin' right up to us since we been on this spot. Plenty o' pears, too. Old Kligger liked a pear, y'know, very partial to pears 'e was. Yowch!"

Wicky swished a willow withe back for another stroke. "Wot've 1 told yer, eh? Shut yer gob about Kligger, d'yew 'ear me, shutt.i.t! One more word about Kligg"

Skipper's sling was around Wicky's neck like a strangling noose. Log a Log bounded lightly down onto the bank and put the tip of his rapier against Burgogg's nose. The helpless stoat wailed miserably.

"We wasn't trackin' n.o.beast! We was goin' to break camp an' keep goin' north, wasn't we, Wicky?"

Trying to ease the sling around his neck, Wicky gasped, "Burgogg's right, we wasn't doin' 'arm to anybeast, sir. You ain't got no reason ter slay us!"

Skipper loosened the noose a touch and growled, "Two things can save yore lives, vermin. One, where's yore mate gone to? There was three of ye. An' two, wot were ye run-nin' from? Speak, or die!"

He tightened the sling again. Wicky yelled in a hoa.r.s.e voice, "Awright, awright, I'll tell yer if'n yew let me breathe!"

Skipper slacked the sling off. "Now talk.,.. Fast!" Wicky ma.s.saged his neck and began talking, his voice a low whisper. His eyes darted from side to side, as if watching for some terrible thing to come bounding out of the woodlands at him.

"It was after yew let us go yisterday. We staggered along fast as we could wid our paws bound t'gether. When we couldn't run no more, we found a quiet liddle spot to sit an' bite through the ropes wid our teeth. Ole Kligger went off, foragin' fer vittles, an' I found a couple o' cloaks an' some lantings. I tell ye, though, there was an awful smell round that glade, a frightenin' smell. It was like . . . like death an' rottin' things, but sickly sweet. . . ." Wicky hugged himself and shuddered.

Skipper prodded him, "Go on, vermin, spit it out!"

Burgogg blurted out as if he could not control himself. "Wicky wuz goin' ter give Kligger a cloak an' a lanting. Then we 'eard the pore beast screamin'. I've 'eard lots o' creatures scream afore, but none like that, sir. None! So we dashed round ter see wot trouble our mate was in. It was worse'n a nightmare, I tell ye! There was this big fat ole oak tree, see, wid a liddle door in it, an' the door was open, an', an' . . . ugghh, it was 'orrible!" Hugging himself, he closed his eyes and mouth tightly. It was obvious that he would not talk further.

Log a Log gave Skipper a quick wink. Leaning across, he unwound the sling from Wicky's throat and patted him sympathetically. "Come on now, me old mate. We want to let you two go, but ye must tell us first. What did you see inside that tree door? Wot 'appened to yore pore shipmate?"

Wicky sat wide-eyed, staring straight ahead, as if he could see the sight clearly in front of him. "It was a three-'eaded dragon, hissin' an' makin' noises like it was fightin' wid itself. The middle 'ead 'ad ahold of Kligger, an' the two 'eads either side was tuggin' an' rippin' at 'im! That smell, the screams, I'll 'ear them fer the rest o' me days, sir!"

Wicky broke down, sobbing and weeping. Skipper grabbed the stoat and shook him like a rag, roaring at him, "A dragon, are ye mad? Wot did it look like?"

The stoat managed to gasp out between clattering teeth, "It wuz all coils'n'scales, with three 'eads, sir. But the middle 'ead was the worst. Bigger'n the other two, with four eyes, two black an' two green. It 'ad big golden 'orns on its 'ead. I take me oath it did!"

Burgogg wailed out in panic, "Wicky's right, sir, that's just 'ow it looked. Oh please let us go, sir, don't ask us t'go back there an' take ye to the spot!"

Skipper stood up, winding the sling around his paw. "Ye've no need to. Come on, Log, I know where the place is!"

Log a Log kicked the two stoats upright. "Put that fire out an' run for yore lives!"

Wicky and Burgogg kicked earth over the smouldering fire.

"Thankee, sir, we're goin', thankee kindly!" "Aye, we don't wanna see Mossflower agin, ever. Thankee!"

Noon was running to long shadows as Skipper and Log a Log approached the glade where the cloaks and lanterns lay. Both drew their swords and crept silently forward. Suddenly the sunlit afternoon woodlands had become a place laden with menace.

Log a Log's nose twitched, and the shrew blenched. "Good grief, d'ye smell that?"

Skipper did. Then he heard the gra.s.s rustling, slowly at first, then speeding up and becoming faster as it got closer to them.

Log a Log grabbed his friend's paw and dashed off, away from the hidden terror, all his instincts telling him not to stop, but to run. Throwing caution to the winds, he shouted at Skipper, "Quick, mate, or we're deadbeasts! Run for it!"

The otter ran then, but as he did he chanced a swift backward glance and saw what was hunting them. The sight lent wings to his flight. Seizing Log a Log, he bounded forward, pulling the shrew along so fast that at times his footpaws lost contact with the ground.

Long after the danger had pa.s.sed and the hunter had quit pursuing them, they were still running, out onto the path and down toward the ancient Abbey reflecting the first evening light from its warm-hued sandstone bulk. Toward Redwall, home and safety to all who dwelt therein.

2 3 3.

That night, after the Dibbuns had gone up to their beds, all able-bodied Redwallers gathered in Cavern Hole to hear Skipper speak. Grave-faced, the big otter faced his audience. He pointed a paw dramatically, "Out there in Mossflower Woods is a great danger. Ye can believe me 'cos I saw it for meself this very very day. I know we smiled a bit when Hddle Ruggum said that 'e saw a monster serpent an' a white ghost, but I believes 'e was tellin' the truth, after wot I saw with me own two eyes." day. I know we smiled a bit when Hddle Ruggum said that 'e saw a monster serpent an' a white ghost, but I believes 'e was tellin' the truth, after wot I saw with me own two eyes."

As he paused, Memm called out, "Then tell us, what did you jolly well see?"

Urged on by Log a Log's nod, Skipper told them. "Three of the biggest adders I ever 'opes t'see, but all twisted together like one beast. The biggest was the middle one, an' I knows this is 'ard to believe, but it was wearin' a great golden crown with two big black jetstones set in the front. At first glance it looked like it had four eyes. Never seen anythin' like it in me life, an' 'ope I never do again, mates. 'Twas somethin' you wouldn't expect t'see, even in a bad dream!"

In the shinned silence that followed Skipper's words, Malbun held up the heavy gold pawring, with its two jetstones glimmering in the lantern lights.

"Did the crown on the serpent's head look anything like this?"

The otter nodded. "Aye, save that the crown was many times bigger, an' the stones were, too. But it matches the crown, sh.o.r.e enough, marm."

The Abbot shook his head in awe. "It sounds very scary!"

Log a Log was glad that their incredulous story was getting home. He glanced around at the Redwallers' fearful faces. "Oh, 'tis scary all right. We know that it ate one o' those stoats who attacked Malbun an' ole Crikulus. The other two told me'n'Skipper that the vermin's screams was like nothin' they'd ever 'card. I never ran from any-beast in me life, an' neither 'as Skipper, ye all know that. But this thing, the smell, the speed it came after us! Make no mistake, 'tis a great an' terrifyin' evil!"

Seeing that the Abbot wanted to take the floor, Log a Log and Skipper stood to one side. Apodemus raised a warning paw. "Now you have all heard, so I am going to issue the strictest orders. n.o.beast is to leave the Abbey!"

He stared pointedly at Malbun and Crikulus before continuing. "Skipper will organise a wallguard. You must all take your turn at watching from the battlements. But more important, keep a sharp eye on the grounds inside. I do not want to hear that Dibbuns have been trying to get out by the wallgates, or any other possible exit. Memm, will you and Sister Vernal take a headcount of the Abbeybabes twice daily?"

The Harenurse saluted. "Yes sah, double roll call, got it!"

After the meeting dispersed, Abbot Apodemus took a stroll around the orchard, in company with Log a Log, Skipper, Crikulus and Malbun. The otter Chieftain felt it was his duty to voice an opinion.

"Father Abbot, you gave good counsel back there. We'll all be safe, long as we stays inside an' keeps watch. But there is danger out there, sir, an' we won't make it go away by 'idin' from it. Somethin' needs t'be done."

Apodemus spread his paws expressively, "Aye, but what?"

They stood in the evening scent of blossom and fruit, listening to a blackbird's melodious warble, pondering the question. Log a Log was first to break the silence.

"Is the old tawny owl still around?"

Crikulus pulled a wry face. "Aye, he's taken to the beam below my gatehouse ceiling, Ovus isn't much trouble, except that you can't leave food lying about when he's near."

Log a Log agreed. "Worse'n a hare, some owls. Could you tell Ovus we want t'see him? I think an owl's wisdom might 'elp."

Looking a bit grumpy, the tawny owl waddled into the orchard behind Crikulus. He blinked several times and swivelled his head at them.

"I missed supper, y'know. Not good for the digestion, missing supper. Well, what is it?"

Log a Log gallantly offered a paw for the owl to rest his wing upon. "Come on, mate, we'll find ye somethin' in the kitchens. But tell me first, d'you know any thin' about gettin' rid of adders?"

The owl's black eyes widened. "Hmph! You don't get rid of adders. What you do is stay away from them, make your home in another place. Leave adders alone, don't mess with them!"

It was not a a solution that pleased the Abbot. "But suppose you cannot, or don't want to, move away. What happens then, pray tell?" solution that pleased the Abbot. "But suppose you cannot, or don't want to, move away. What happens then, pray tell?"

Ovus waited as Skipper opened the Abbey door for him. "If you stay put, then the adders will find you, sooner or later. Those reptiles are totally evil. They're great hunters, too, and can range far and wide. I say move, that's the best and safest way of staying alive."

Skipper snorted. " 'Tis out o' the question, mate. Is there no other way?"

Ovus paused on the top step of the kitchen. "Hmmm, strawberry and redcurrant turnover, can't mistake that gorgeous smell. Hope there's plenty left."

Skipper blocked the owl's path. "I asked ye if there was any other way!"

Abruptly the tawny owl snapped, "Bluddbeak, I suppose!"

Ovus would speak no more until he had despatched a large turnover. The Abbot's gesture signalled them all to be patient until the owl had finished eating. He picked a few crumbs from his talons and sighed.

"Ahhh, that's much better. Ahem, now about Bluddbeak. I'm surprised you haven't heard of him. Big old red kite, lives nor'west in the mountains, a goodly way off. Suppose that's why you don't know him. Anyhow, if anybeast can take care of adders, then Bluddbeak is the bird."

Malbun found another turnover that had been left cooling on a stone slate. She pushed it in front of Ovus. "Could you find Bluddbeak and bring him to Redwall?"

Again they had to wait whilst the owl ate his turnover. Then Ovus began making his demands for the task.

Skipper took the first watch on the walltops with Churk, the hefty young female otter. He told her of what had taken place in the kitchens. Churk leaned on a battlement, watching the night-cowled woodlands, shaking her head in disbelief.

"A day afore he can make the trip, ye say? Cheeky old featherbag. I'd 'ave sent that owl packin' tonight, Skip!"

Skipper rested his chin on the wallstones. "Ovus ain't hurryin' fer n.o.beast. Says 'e's got to feed 'imself up fer such a long flight. Huh, an' the load o' vittles 'e wants t'take with 'im. A fruitcake, two mushroom-an'-carrot pasties, a bag o' candied chestnuts, a whoppin' slab o' cheese, an' a big flask of greensap milk mixed with clear honey, if ye please!"

Churk could not resist a chuckle at the owl's gluttony.

215.

"Carryin' that lot, I think Ovus'll 'ave to walk all the way!" Skipper shrugged. "I think the Abbot's far too soft wid that bird, but 'e agreed with everythin'."

Za.s.saliss was the biggest and oldest of the three adders. His brother Harssacss and his sister Sesstra were bound forever to him, not just by family blood, but also by the mace and chain of King Sarengo. Long seasons ago, when all three were young, the Pure Ferret Ruler and his crew of Ratguards had invaded the vipers' home. The attack had been brief but terrible. Their mother, the great snake Berrussca, had met Sarengo head-on, knocking the iron mace and chain from his paws and engaging him in a struggle to the death. The mace was a fearsome weapon, with a metal bar handle, an iron chain flail, and a spiked iron ball.

Berrussca's three children were hardly half grown. Huddling together in the cavern beneath the oak, they hissed venomously and struck out at the Ratguards surrounding them. Flailing through the melee, the discarded mace and chain wrapped itself about their writhing tails. Screams of stricken rats rent the gloomy air of Brockhall as the three young snakes struck again and again. Only six rats and Sarengo's fat, terrified son Agarnu managed to scramble out with their lives.

King Sarengo fought like a madbeast. Weaponless and trapped in the giant coils of Berrussca, the Pure Ferret sunk his teeth into the adder's spine, just below the skull. He hung on, hoping for rescue by his son and the Ratguards, but it never came. Sarengo died of wounds from the viper's poison fangs. Berrussca died, too, her spine broken by Sarengo's clenched teeth.

When it was all over, the three young vipers, Za.s.saliss, Harssacss and Sesstra, lay exhausted, the cruel weight of Sarengo's mace and chain embedded in their tails. The more they struggled, the worse it bit into their bodies. It was many days before they could move. Exerting his greater strength and authority over the other two, Za.s.saliss forced them to coordinate their movements until all three moved as one.

The brood of Berrussca learned to grow, to hunt and survive together, and Za.s.saliss took Sarengo's crown for himself. Now fully matured adders, they were the terror of every creature unfortunate enough to behold them. They were cold, swift, poisonous and deadly. Killers three, with none to oppose their ever-widening territory.

The dreadful trio slithered together through the night-dark woodlands, their tongues flickering as they used them to quest the air for prey. Separated, they might have been totally silent, but joined in unison the adders could not prevent the swish of gra.s.s caused by their dragging tails and the mace handle constantly trailing behind them. However, their combined speed and ferocity proved a deadly combination.

An old crow soon found this out to its cost. The bird, who had injured its wing and could not follow its kin, stood dozing on a low-dipping hawthorn branch. The crow heard the rustling gra.s.s far too late. Sesstra tugged the slender tree limb, toppling the ancient bird down into the gaping mouths of her two brothers. She joined them speedily, eager not to miss her share of the quarry.

Rigid with terror, the crow stared up at three pairs of eyes peering down at it.

"Sssssleep, do not sssssquawk or sssscreech!" "Ssssssleep in sssssilence and darknessssss!" "Do not dissssssturb otherssssss, we need to hunt more thissssss night!"

217.

24.

Dawn's first pale light washed gently in over a calm sea. A lone gull's plaintive call echoed to the opening day. Scarum sat at the tiller taking dogwatch, the shortest duty, as darkness gave way to light. The incorrigible young hare eyed his two companions, sleeping in the bows with the ship's rations between them. In the hope of waking Sagax and Kroova to make breakfast, as he was not allowed to touch the food, Scarum began composing a ditty and singing it aloud: "O the life of a handsome young hare is sad, Jolly sad, believe you me, With two rotten measly grubswipin' mates, He sails the bloomin' sea.

He's considered rude if he begs for food, Tut tut, that's far too bad.

He's bossed by an otter who's nought but a rotter, An' a badger well known as a cad!

Sing hey fol dee dee, sail hither an' there, Spare a tear for a famished young hare.

If this hare should die, would his comrades cry? Wot wot, fat chance I'd say, They'd cook skilly'n'duff, laugh hearty an' rough, Scoff pudden an' chortle all day.

As for that pitiful, starved-to-death chap, Why, they'd toss him over the side, Where a rotten great shark, just for a lark, Would be waitin' with mouth open wide!

Sing hey fol dee doh, through storm an' bad fogs, Just look at 'em snorin' like hogs.

So all you jolly young handsome hares, Pay heed to my sad tale.

Beware those blinkin' bounders who want To take you for a sail.

They'll sn.i.g.g.e.r an' whoop, as your poor ears droop, An' make flamin' insultin' remarks, Just bid 'em farewell, an' hop into the sea.

You're far better off with the sharks!

Sing hey fol dee doh, I've still got my pride, So ignore me 'cos I've just died!"