Rakkety Tam

37

Because of the failing daylight, Sergeant Wonwill suggested that they take the water voles indoors for questioning. In Great Hall there was much curiosity about the object strapped to Yoofus’s back.

Abbot Humble ventured to touch the hard shell. “What is this thing, Mister Lightpaw?”

Didjety unfastened the strapping and placed her pet upon the floor. “Why, that’s me darlin’ liddle Rockbottom!”

A gasp of surprise went up as the creature poked out his head and legs. He began crawling toward a group of Dibbuns. Squeaking and squealing, they leapt back.

Foremole Bruffy scratched his snout, expressing wonder at the sight. “Burr, oi never see’d ’owt loike that in moi loife, no zurr!”

Sister Armel knelt down by Rockbottom. He craned his head forward so she could scratch gently under his chin. The Sister obliged, smiling. “Friends, meet the Walking Stone!”

Recognition dawned in Humble’s eyes. “Of course, the Walking Stone! What a funny little fellow he is. Where did you find him, marm?”

Yoofus swelled his chest out proudly. “Sure, ’twas meself that found him, Father.”

Sister Armel interrupted Yoofus. “Wait, don’t tell me! You found this creature not far from a lake. It came out of a hole at the foot of an old sycamore, all thick and overgrown with ivy leaves. Am I right, Mister Lightpaw?”

For the first time he could remember, Yoofus was lost for words. He could only stammer, “Wha . . . Who . . . How?”

Sister Screeve took from her sleeve the copy of the poem which she habitually carried around with her and began reading.

“Where the sun falls from the sky,

and dances at a pebble’s drop,

where little leaves slay big leaves,

where wood meets earth I stop.

Safe from the savage son of Dramz,

here the secret lies alone,

the symbol of all power, the mighty Walking Stone.”

Yoofus stared at the Sister and the Recorder. “How did ye know all that?”

For the sake of manners, Tam had not cut in on Armel and Screeve, but he could hold his impatience no longer. “Mrs. Lightpaw, marm, I’m sure ye can explain all about yore pet to everybeast, but right now I must speak to yore husband on a matter of great importance.”

He nodded toward Cavern Hole. “Down there, Yoofus, now! Skipper, Cap’n Fortindom, Sergeant Wonwill, I’ll need you, too.”

The volethief was slightly put out by the fact that he had not eaten in a while, and he wasted no time in telling them so. “Ah, ’tis a sad thing t’be offered none of the famous Redwall hospitality, so ’tis. Decent vittles haven’t passed me starvin’ ould lips since I don’t know when!”

Captain Fortindom eyed him sternly. “Talk first eat later, laddie buck, wot! You tell MacBurl what he jolly well wants t’know, then we’ll feed ye!”

Yoofus stared around at the tough faces and shrugged. “Ah well, here’s wot happened. We were leavin’ the woodlands after many a hard ould day’s march—meself, the missus an’ Doogy. I was carryin’ Rockbottom an’ rollin’ that drum along. ’Twas me who stole it from under the vermins’ noses, y’know. Then suddenly, without a by yore leave, just as we made it out into the open, out charges a gang o’ vermin!”

Skipper halted him with a gesture. “A gang, ye say? How many is a gang?”

Lying, like thieving, was second nature to Yoofus. He squinted one eye and scratched his chin as if estimating. “Oh, I’d say there was at least a score that I could see, an’ the ould Gulo beast, too. Sure that’s one fierce-lookin’ creature! Have ye not seen the claws’n’fangs on ’im?”

Tam cut in. “Never mind how Gulo looked! Exactly how many fightin’ beasts were with him? Think!”

Yoofus pursed his lips. “Well, as I said, there was about a score, sure but I could hear lots of others, hidin’ amid the trees they must’ve been. I can’t give ye a number for certain. They was armed to the very teeth, though. . . .”

Tam was pawing at his sword hilt. “And Doogy, what about Doogy?”

The volethief nodded. “Will ye give me a chance, I’m just gettin’ t’that! Anyhow, like I said, out charges the vermin, an’ I dealt with the nearest three right away. But I had me darlin’ wife t’think of, so I sez to Doogy, ‘There’s far too many of the villains, we’ll have to cut an’ run fer it. I’ll see ye back at the Abbey.’ I’m sorry about the drum, I had to leave it. But lives are more valuable than some ould drum, now aren’t they?”

Wonwill peered closely at the volethief. “So you an’ yore good lady wife ran for the h’Abbey, sah? All well an’ good, but wot became of Mister Plumm, sah?”

Yoofus grinned disarmingly. “Ho ho, I wouldn’t be frettin’ about Doogy, friend. Now there’s a beast who can look after hisself, ye can rely on that!”

Tam’s jaw tightened. “We know that! But what became of him?”

The volethief shrugged. “Sure, he went one way, an’ me wife an’ I went the other. That’s the last I saw of him. Hah, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not out there now, knockin’ at the gate t’come in. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

Tam began making for the door. “I don’t like it. Doogy could be in real trouble out there!”

Skipper reached the door ahead of Tam and blocked it. “Now hold on, mate. Let’s think a bit afore we sails off with swords drawn. ’Tis dark out there now, an’ we don’t know their numbers.”

The Borderer challenged Skipper. “Doogy Plumm has been my friend through thick’n’thin. I’ve got to go out there an’ help him!”

Captain Fortindom placed himself alongside the otter chieftain. “Listen t’reason, old chap. It may be a trap.”

Tam shook his head. “A trap? In what way?”

The hare captain explained. “Gulo might be doin’ this to draw us out an’ leave Redwall undefended. Who knows? Perhaps Mister Plumm is hidin’, safe someplace, just waitin’ for a chance to make a dash for the blinkin’Abbey.”

The sergeant backed up Fortindom’s statement. “Cap’n’s right, sah. Best thing we can do is mount a full guard on the walls an’ wait, h’at least ’til daylight, eh?”

Tam paced up and down, his paw gripping the hilt of Martin’s sword. Then he gave in to the wisdom of his friends. “Until daybreak, then—but only ’til then. I feel terrible, leavin’ Doogy alone out there. I’ll be watching from the south walltop if you need me.”

Yoofus patted his shoulder. “Ah, don’t go frettin’ yoreself now. Doogy’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

The border warrior eyed him coldly. “If anythin’ has happened to my mate, an’ you’ve been tellin’ a pack o’ lies, ye’ll answer to me for it!”

The hares of the Long Patrol, together with all the able-bodied Redwallers, turned out on the walltops to watch for any sign of Doogy. Even Tergen forgot his depression and came down from the attics to stand on the ramparts.

Inside the Abbey, none of the Dibbuns would go up to bed. They all wanted to stay up and play with their newfound friend, the Walking Stone. To keep the peace, Didjety agreed to sleep in the dormitory with Rockbottom. All the Dibbuns trooped upstairs, following close behind the two.

Didjety allowed Mimsie and Perkle to carry the little tortoise between them. First, however, the volewife laid out specific instructions. “Go careful now, an’ don’t drop him. An’ don’t feed him any more o’ those candied chestnuts. He’ll get a tummyache.”

The questions and enquiries came thick and fast at her. She answered each one in turn.

“Do Rockbottims have baffs, missus?”

“Ah no, ye’d drown him by puttin’ him in a bath.”

“Hah! Wish’t I was a Rockbottim. Doo’s he come outta dat shell an’ have a nightie?”

“Indeed he doesn’t, an’ don’t you try to take him out!”

Abbot Humble chuckled as he watched them disappearing round a bend in the stairway. He turned to old Brother Gordale the Gatekeeper and Sister Armel.

“Poor Mrs. Lightpaw! Imagine having to spend the night with our Dibbuns. What do you say we take some supper up to our friends on the walls?”

Burlop was in the kitchens. He wanted nothing more to do with vermin since the day he had slain one in battle. With his help, and that of some kitchen volunteers, they set about making some hot farls stuffed with different fillings—some savoury, others sweet.

Burlop brought up some cordials from his cellars and heated them. “This should keep the life in ’em. Sometimes the nights can grow chilly up on those ramparts, with nought t’do but stand about.”

Tam was leaning against the corner of the southwest battlement when Armel approached him with food. He had been peering out into the night and did not hear her come. Startled, the border squirrel turned suddenly.

The Infirmary Sister apologised. “Sorry, Tam, I didn’t mean to surprise you. Would you like some supper?”

He released his grip on the sword hilt. “I didn’t hear you coming because I was concentrating in the other direction, out there.”

Armel placed the food on the battlement ledge. “Still no sign of Mister Plumm?”

Tam shook his head. “Not yet, but I’ve got a feeling in my bones that he’s not too far away. I’ll wait and see.”

Armel indicated the supper. “Then you can eat while you wait.”

Tam’s eyes never left the woodland fringe. “I don’t feel like eating until I know Doogy’s alright.”

The pretty young squirrel placed the tray firmly under Tam’s nose. “You must eat something, Mister MacBurl!”

A stubborn look crossed the Borderer’s face. “I’ve already said that I don’t feel like eating until I know my friend is safe, Sister Armel!”

She spread her paws expressively. “You’ll have to eat sooner or later, Mister MacBurl. Come on now, I made this supper specially for you.”

Tam knew he was going to lose the argument, so he relented. “Tell you what, let’s share it. I’ll eat half if you will.”

She smiled. “There’s not much difference between Dibbuns and warriors. Sometimes you’ve both got to be coaxed into doing what’s best for you. Right, we’ll share supper!”

Tam bit into one of the farls. “Mmmm . . . cheese and onion! Why didn’t you tell me, that’s one of my favourites!”

Armel took a sip of hot cordial and winked mischievously at him. “I could’ve tempted you into eating, but I like being bossy. Now eat up, Mister MacBurl!”

Tam laughed as he saluted and took a huge bite of the farl. “Right you are, marm. Your wish is my command!”

Together they passed the night hours—eating, drinking and talking. All along the walls, hares and Redwallers were doing the same thing in a common bond of friendship as they kept watch on the darkened plain and woodlands.

Dawn’s first mystic light stole out of the east, pale shades of misty pastels illuminating the sky as the first birdsong trilled softly over the stillness of Mossflower. Then the big drum boomed out, its echoes reverberating around the Abbey and ramparts of Redwall.

Tergen, who had posted himself on the threshold over the main gate at the western wall, shrilled out a harsh message, arousing every creature to action. “Yeeekaaaarrrr! This bird sees vermin yonder. Yeekaaaarrrr!”

Tam’s sword flashed forth in the dawn light. He thundered along the walkway to the threshold, with Armel dashing behind him.

Skipper and Sergeant Wonwill bellowed out orders to the creatures on the walltops.

“Hold yore positions there, don’t leave yore posts!”

“Long Patrol h’archers, up front with Cap’n Fortindom! The rest of ye stay put. Steady in the ranks there!”

Rakkety Tam MacBurl skidded to a halt alongside the goshawk. “Where’s the vermin, Tergen? Where?”

Babooom! Boom! Boom!

Over the deep drum tones, Tergen pointed with his beak. “Yaaaarrreeeeekka! See, over there!”

The breath froze in Tam’s throat as he looked . . . and saw!