Skipper leaned over from his walltop perch and tickled the hare's ear. "If'n the vermin don't show up afore mid-morn, we're takin' a scoutin' party out t'see wot's goin' on in Mossflower woodlands. Are ye comin'?"

The hare tried to poach Sagax's soup beaker and got a rap over the paw for his audacity. "Count me in, old scout, anythin's better'n sittin' up here like a caterpillar waitin' to change into a bloomin' b.u.t.terfly, wot wot wot!"

Sagax gave Scarum his beaker, but it was empty. He smiled at his friend's dejected expression.

"Oh, stop looking like a boiled b.u.mblebee. I know you're bored, we're all bored, and it's a long time until dawn. Come on, Scarum, entertain us. Give us that monologue about your uncle GurdiloI like that one."

The hare sniffed. "It's Burdilo, not Gurdilo, an' all you've given me tonight is a flarmn' empty soup beaker. Shan't!"

Triss picked up the beaker. "Oh, do it, please, I've never heard about your uncle Burdilo. I'll fill this beaker with soup again if you recite it for us. Promise."

Scarum rose stiffly. "You do know the way to a chap's heart, miss, or is it his stomach? Same thing. Oh, all right, here goes." The hare soon had them all chuckling with his comic poem.

"My uncle Burdilo was a chap that you'd like to know. He'd paws like iron an' a back like oak, All in all quite a handsome bloke! They say he scoffed his own weight twice, In the s.p.a.ce of a bloomin' day, An' licked ten times his weight in foes, At least that's what they say, hey. Beefer yoofer arfer deefer, eyefer elfer oh. That's how he spelt his name, y'know. My uncle Burdilo!

His eyesight was so jolly good, Do you know what they say? He could spot a fly on an apple pie, A score o' miles away... even on a foggy day! So strong and tough a hare he was, D'you know what he did one day? He stood in a pail an' picked it up, An' carried himself away, hey. Beefer yoofer arfer deefer, eyefer elfer oh, That's how he spelt his name, y'know. My uncle Bur-dilo!

He'd swim wide seas with skill an' ease, And often for a joke, He'd run so fast, as he sped past, His footpaws puffed out smoke! Y'know what they say, he raced one day, Until his tail was burnin', He ran, of course, with such great force, He met himself returnin'. Beefer yoofer arfer deefer, eyefer elfer oh, That's how he spelt his name, y'know. My uncle Bur-dilo!"

During the laughter and applause that followed, Scarum bowed and flourished both ears outrageously. He flopped down beside Triss.

"Now, then, how's about that beaker o' soup, m'gel?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "Oh, that. No need for me to go dashing off to the kitchenshere come Foremole Urrm and Furrel with two big jugs of soup for refills."

The hare's face was the picture of outrage. "You knew they were comin'. Hoodwinker, charlatan! I'll never trust a pretty face again, wot, you see if I bally well don't, huh!"

Sagax pushed him playfully. "Oh, stop grumbling, it pa.s.sed away a pleasant moment or two, didn't it?"

Scarum held out his beaker to be filled, muttering, "Might have for you rotten lot, but it took quite a bit out of me, wastin' my artistic an' poetic talents on a pack o' soup-guzzlin' buffoons, wot. I say there, Furrel, you charmin' young molemaid, keep pourin'. This blmkin' beaker's only half fullkeep goin', me pretty one!"

The molemaid wrinkled her snout. "Hurr hurr, you'm a gurt flatterer, zurr, h'oi can't resist ee!"

Kroova whispered to Sagax, "I'm glad somebeast can't!" Scarum shot him an icy glance. "I heard that, y'know!"

37.

As all the able-bodied Redwallers were guarding the wall-tops, there was n.o.beast to relieve them. Night's dark hours dragged by with painful slowness. The defenders paired off, one napping whilst the other kept watch. Beyond the walls, Mossflower Woods lay calm and peaceful/ but to the sentries' eyes they looked different. Every shifting moonshadow or breeze-swayed bough represented the threat of a fresh vermin attack. *

Triss watched the silent plain spread out in front of her. Many thoughts wandered in and out of her mind. The friends she had left on Riftgard's cold northern coasts, still trapped in a life of miserable slavery. Agarnu, the fat white King, stumping about on his false limb, while his tyrannical mind dreamed up new schemes that added to the harsh existence of the wretched captives who served his every whim. The vow she had made to poor old Drufo.

Triss touched the hilt of Martin's wondrous sword. Silently she renewed her vow to return and free the slaves. Martin the Warrior's spirit had guided her across the seas to Redwall. She would do what she had to and help her new friends to defend their Abbey against evil. But the day would come when she would set paw again on Rift- gard's sh.o.r.es to avenge Drufo's memory, and that of the father she had never known, Rocc Arrem.

Lying on a bed near the dormitory door, Memm Flackery stuck out a paw, stopping the Dibbun Bikkle from leaving the room. The Harenurse murmured. "Where d'you think you're off to, little miss?"

The squirrelbabe climbed up onto Memm's bed. "Breff-ist, it bee's time for breffist, Bikkle, 'ear a larker!"

The bed creaked as Memm rose and carried Bikkle to an open window. Dawn's first lark twittered thinly, ascending into the pale light of a new day. Delicate rose hues stippled the horizon, dispersing the dark blue of night as soft gold sunrays threaded out between creampuff clouds.

Ruggum trundled up beside Memm and Bikkle. "Yurr, ee larker bee's a-tellin' uz et's toime furr breffist."

Taking in the glorious scene before her, Memm absently patted the molebabe's head. "Hmm, the beauties of Mother Nature are never lost on you, Ruggum, wot!"

Nodding solemnly, the molebabe agreed. "Hurr, they'm surpintly b'ain't, marm!"

The morning wore on, with no sign of the vermin returning to attack Redwall. Skipper and Log a Log had shared their plans with the Abbot: a force was to be sent out into the woodlands. It was vital that they knew what had caused the Freebooters and Ratguards to break off the attack.

Triss was pleasantly surprised when they consulted her as to who should go and who would stay behind to protect the Abbey. Scarum was chosen to stay with the home-guard, as was Gurdle Sprink and all the shrews who had arrived with Mimsy and Gulif, most of whom had families. The rest would be Redwallers, those too young or old to travel, and possibly fight. Triss suggested that they leave at least one more capable warrior behind, to a.s.sist Scarum and Curdle. They decided it would be one of the four otters. Shogg, Kroova, Churk and Rumbol drew lots, and it fell to the sea otter.

Kroova was slightly disappointed, but he made light of it. "Hah, it'll be easy enough defendin' the walltops, mates, but who's goin' to defend the kitchens against old Scarum?"

Foremole and his crew were out on the path, having just finished burying the slain vermin and cleaning the oatmeal from the gateway. He touched a heavy digging claw to his snout as the tracking party emerged from the Abbey.

"Hurr, gudd luck to ee, zurrs'n'marms, you'm be careful an' watch owt furr ee vermint villyuns."

The remaining Redwallers flocked to the west walltop as Skipper, Log a Log, Triss and Sagax led off their crew at high noon. Guosim shrews formed the main body, followed by the three otters, Mokug and a half-dozen Abbey dwellers. The Abbot stood on the walltop with Scarum and Kroova, waving and calling goodbyes. The hare bellowed down to the trackers, "Give 'em blood'n'vinegar, chaps, an' don't let that Sagax too near the blinkin' supplies. Badgers are born hogs, y'know. Hawhawhaw!"

Triss threw a salute to the Abbot. "Don't worry, Father, I'll bring Martin's sword back safe and sound."

Apodemus smiled fondly at her. "I'm sure you will, my child."

Shogg and Kroova had become close friends. The sea otter shouted down to Shogg, "I'll tell Friar Gooch t'make some shrimp'n'hotroot soup to share with ye on yore return, mate."

Shogg grinned from ear to ear. "Yore a good 'un, matey. I'll look forward to that. We'll scoff it t'gether."

Foremole and his crew were still out on the path. They watched until the last creature disappeared into the woodlands, then Scarum began exercising his authority from above.

"Attention now, all moletypes will come inside an' lock the gates, quick as y'like now, jump to it!" Scarum saluted Kroova with a fine military flourish. "Got to keep those wallahs on the move, y'know, wot!"

The otter, still staring at the small dust cloud the party had left on the path, agreed absentmindedly. "Wot, oh aye, right, mate, keep 'em on the move ..."

Ripper the searat and Tazzin found themselves in the vanguard of the vermin as they marched through the quiet, sunshafted woodlands. Without turning his eyes, Ripper nodded backward. "I'll wager that Princess Kurda is well perfected."

Tazzin took a quick peek. "Oh aye, yore right there. She's right in the middle ranks, guarded by spears. Not up front in the open like me 'n' you, mate. Still, there's 'er tracker, Riggan, scoutin' up ahead of us. If anybeast gets attacked by snakes, she'll be the first."

Ripper did not agree. "Not when we gets t'the snakes' den, that's when we'll be given our weapons back an' told to charge in the front door. Well, 'ere's one wot won't be goin'. I ain't no fool. Let 'er guards do the chargin'."

Tazzin's gaze roved from side to side as she answered, "You seen wot 'appened to Slitfang, didn't ye? Kurda ain't a beast t'be crossedI never seen a creature so fast an' deadly wid a sabre. She'd 'ave slayed Plugg if'n the snakes didn't get to 'im first. That ferret's a real swordbeast!"

Not only had Kurda ringed herself with Ratguards, but she had split the unarmed Freebooters, keeping half in front of the column and the other half behind. The Princess was as frightened as any of them by the thought of the three snakes, but her mind was working constantly as she discussed plans with Vorto.

"Ven Riggan finds der serpents' den, you give de Freebooters der veapons back. I t'ink many of dem get killed in de shnakes' lair. Who vill get mine crown back for me?"

Vorto had been thinking up a new plan, which he out- lined. "No real need for 'em t'go chargin' in, yore 'ighness. Suppose we was to stake one o' the Freebooters out in front o' the den? We could be layin' in wait when the serpents come out t'get the bait, then we could send Plugg's crew in to finish the snakes off."

Kurda liked the idea. "Yarr, gutt! Den you an' mine guards rush in an' take mine crown from der dead serpents. Und if de lair is empty, den you go in an' get der pawring. Gutt!"

Vorto was not too happy about exploring the snakes' den to find the royal pawring. But he said nothing, knowing that he could drive any surviving Freebooters in ahead of him. It was a good plan; all that would be sacrificed would be the crew of the Seascab. Seascab.

Log a Log's scouts tracked the vermin trail to their previous night's camp. A Guosim shrew emerged from the undergrowth rather swiftly. "There's a slayed weasel in there, with 'is paw an' 'ead lopped off. They must've been quar-rellin' among themselves."

With one mighty tug, Sagax released Plugg's battle-axe from the trunk of the sycamore. He wielded it in one paw. "I like the feel of this weapon. I think I'll claim it."

Triss watched him heft the big axe. "I think you'd better have it, it suits you, Sagax. There's not many other beasts could lift it, let alone use it!"

Log a Log stirred the dead fire ashes with his rapier, listening to the report of one of his scouts.

"Still a smell of those adders yonder, faint, but track-able. Looks like they're huntin' 'em, Chief."

Wiping his rapier clean, the Guosim Chieftain replied, "Aye, an' we're trackin' them. So everybeast be double careful, an' you scouts, watch yoreselves. Give a shout if'n ye get into trouble, we won't be far behind."

Shogg threw some kindling on the dead fire and set flint to tinder, blowing on the sparks. Log a Log saw what he was doing and nodded approval.

"No sense in catchin' up to 'em too soon, eh, mate?"

Shogg dug bread and cheese from his pack. "I figger if the vermin are huntin' these serpents, we'd be better off lettin' 'em go ahead an' do it. No sense in runnin' into the middle of a vermin snakefight."

Log a Log winked broadly at Triss. "That's a smart matey ye got there, miss. Let's stop an' take a snack."

The squirrelmaid sat down with Shogg and Mokug, who was going over the map rhyme, which he had remembered by heart.

"Midday sun shines bright for you, 'Twixt leaning ash and poison gold, Where the greenrock hidden lies, For keen eyes to behold."

All of the Abbey newcomers were familiar with the riddle. During the long watches on Redwall's ramparts they had been told of the story of the quest for Brockhall. Mokug sat repeating the lines under his breath, his brow furrowed with concentration. Triss pa.s.sed him bread and cheese.

"Keep trying, mate, you'll get the answer sooner or later."

Packing food into his cheek pouches, the golden hamster chattered his teeth in frustration. "Well, I 'opes 'tis sooner, missy, J likes to 'elp me friends. These Redwallers 'ave been good to me! Skipper's showed me wot an ash tree looks like, but I don't know anythin' about poison gold an' greenrocks. Huh, nor does young Churk, an' she's cleverer than most of us put t'gether."

A glimmer of pride for his species shone in Shogg's eyes. "Aye, mate, us otters knows a lot more'n most beasts think!"

Mokug looked hopefully at him. "Could you solve it, Shogg?"

The otter shuffled his paws awkwardly, "Well, er, I dunno, I ain't had as much learnin' as Churk ..."

Triss clasped his paw, encouraging her friend. "Give it a try, Shogg, go on. What do you think of it all?"

He stared hard into the fire, scratching his chin. "Hmm, it seems t'me that we're lookin' for an 'idden green rock, an' the clue to it is in the midday sun. But yore puzzle is in that second line.' 'Twixt leanin' ash an' poison gold.' D'ye think I'm on the right track, Triss?"

The squirrelmaid ran mentally over the second line. "You could be. We've found out that leaning ash is probably an ash tree that leans in some way. Now, what about poison goldcould that be a tree as well?"

Mokug suddenly brightened up. "Aye, it might be a tree!"

Shogg became aware that other members of the party were listening to the conversation as they sat eating. So he attempted to enlist their help. "Ahoy, mates, any of ye knows about trees?"

Log a Log pointed out a serious-faced shrew. "Grifty, yore always spoutin' poems an' songs about the woodlands. Yore ole mum was a healer, wasn't she?"

The Guosim shrew Grifty prodded the fire with a stick. "Aye, best healer in all Mossflower, my mother was. She knew all the names o' plants, bushes, trees an' flowers. She needed to use all of 'em for 'er remedies."

"Well, wot can y'tell us about trees?"

Grifty was considering Log a Log's question as he poked at the fire. "Trees, hmm, now let me see. I can do ye a rhyme about trees. Would that be any help?"

Mokug chuckled. "We needs all the help we can git, mate. Do your rhyme for us, please."

It took Grifty a moment to recall the rhyme, then he looked up from the fire and began reciting: "Most trees are old, long-standing friends, With crowns of leaf and trunks of wood, Their lives o'er countless seasons span, And learn from them we should.

Great oak is king of woodlands, It rules both copse and glade, To give us acorns from its cups, Midst wondrous spreading shade.

Bold chestnut, too, has nuts for you, Some maples' sap is sweet, Slim rowan, known as mountain ash, Bears berries red to eat.

Dark baubles from the elder, And juniper so fine, Like fruits of good wild cherry, Can all be turned to wine.

But other trees are not like these, Take caution and beware, Some are born to carry death, Although they may look fair.

Bright berries of spurge laurel, Laburnum's flowers of gold, And blossoms from a guelder rose, All beauteous to behold, But poison in their nature, I say to you, my friend, Ignore this timely warning, And your days will swiftly end!"

Shogg slapped his rudder sharply on the ground. "Ha-harr, there 'tis, plain as the crust on a pie! Laburnum flowers o' gold an' they're poison, too.' 'Twixt leanin' ash an' poison gold.' We're lookin' for a laburnum crossed by an ash tree wot ain't growin' straight!"

Mokug tugged at Triss's robe. "Wot does a laburnum look like?"

Triss explained. "It's not a big tree, but quite slender, with smallish spearhead-shaped leaves and long chains of bright yellow flowers hanging from every branch. Laburnum's a deadly tree, though, not just the flowers, but the leaves, wood and bark and all."

She was interrupted by Log a Log calling to his scouts, "Take a look round the woods, mates, see if ye can bring back a laburnum branch to show ole Mokug."

Triss was surprised by the shrews' alacrity. They seemed to have been gone no time at all, when one came racing back. In his paw he clutched a laburnum branch, wrapped around one end with dock leaves to protect himself.

As soon as Mokug caught sight of it, he was beside himself with eagerness. "I've seen one of 'em before, a tree all covered wid those yellow flowers. I've seen one, I tell ye!"

Shogg was caught up in the excitement. "Where, mate, where?"

Mokug ceased jumping up and down. "Er, er, I couldn't put me paw on it right now, but I'll remember, never fear, mates. I know 'twas someplace east of where ye found me when that ole owl was slain. Aye, I'll know it when I sees it!"

Log a Log shook his head. "But that's away from the vermin tracks we're followin', well away."

There was a momentary silence, then Churk spoke up. "All the better for us, I say. If the vermin are trackin' the snakes to their den, they'll be goin' in by the front way. But if we can find the back entrance, we'll know where both the vermin an' the serpents are. Inside!"

Sagax left off whetting his axe blade and viewed the sky. "How far off would you say the two trees are, Mokug?"

The hamster scratched his ear. "Oh, a fair piece, I'd say, at least half a mornin's walk."

Log a Log thrust his rapier into the earth. "Right, then we camp 'ere tonight an' break camp at dawn. With any luck, that'll bring us to the place before midday sun shines bright for us!"