The Rogue Crew

25

Uggo gripped Posy’s paw tightly, even though they were travelling in the centre of the group. Old Drogbuk Wiltud was supposedly taking them on a shortcut to Redwall, so they could arrive ahead of Greenshroud and Razzid Wearat’s crew. They were in a forbidding and eerie part of Mossflower, one seldom used by other travellers. The trees were enormous, their upper foliage coming together—cedar, oak, elm, sycamore, ash, beech and other varieties—blocking out the sunlight. It was a world of green gloom haunted by dark shadows. Nothing except trees and odd fern beds seemed to grow there in the all-prevailing silence. The woodland floor was deeply coated with leaf loam and dead pine needles.

Uggo chuckled nervously. “Ain’t much fun strollin’ through this place, is it?”

His voice echoed hollowly around the monolithic trunks. Posy squeezed his paw. “Hush, now, be quiet. Sound carries round here.”

The Guosim shrew Banktail whispered furtively, “D’ye think somebeast might be lissenin’?”

Log a Log Dandy, who was bringing up the rear, pawed at his rapier hilt, putting on a show of bravado. “I don’t care who they are. They can lissen long as they like, providin’ they don’t try anythin’ on me. All they’ll git off’n this Guosim is a taste o’ cold steel!”

Walking in the lead with Drogbuk, Swiffo had to slow his pace to match the ancient hog. He was not best pleased when the oldster sat down on a fallen spruce trunk.

The young sea otter held forth his paw.

“C’mon, Granpa, up ye come. Let’s get goin’—I don’t like this place. Sooner we’re outta here the better, eh?”

Drogbuk shook the paw off his shoulder, stating moodily, “I don’t like this place either, but a beast o’ my seasons ’as to rest. I ain’t as spry as you whippersnappers.”

Swiffo called a halt. “Take a short rest, mates.”

Drogbuk felt inclined to argue, so he did. “A short rest is it, eh? Lissen, wavedog, I’ll rest fer as long as I likes, see? I’m the one wot knows the way, so ye can’t go anywhere widout me to guide ye!”

Log a Log Dandy tried humouring him. “Yore right there, ole feller. You cool yore paws awhile.”

Drogbuk stuck out his snout stubbornly. “Aye, an’ whilst I’m coolin’ me paws, wot about some vittles an’ a drop t’drink, or do I ’ave t’starve t’death?”

Swiffo shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind a bite o’ grub meself, mate. Trouble is, we ain’t got none, an’ there ain’t any to be got around this place, unless anybeast wants t’go foragin’.”

The Guosim scout Dobble dusted loam from his tail. “I’ll take a look around. There’s got t’be somethin’ a body could eat.”

Frabb, a tough-faced Guosim, volunteered himself. “I’ll go with ye, Dobble. If’n I don’t git me paws on some vittles soon, I’ll start eatin’ me own tail!”

As they strode off together, Log a Log Dandy called, “Keep yore eyes skinned for trouble, mates, an’ give our Guosim cry if’n there’s anythin’ amiss.”

After the pair had vanished into the green gloom, the others sat resting. It was an uneasy time. A pall of silence lay upon the whole party. Uggo and Posy moved closer to each other, staring uneasily around, stiffening at a sound in the background.

The shrew Banktail looked rather unhappy at the situation. “See? I told ye we was bein’ watched. Now they’re trackin’ us.”

Dandy nudged him hard. “Why don’t ye talk a bit louder, so that whoever it is can find us easier? Huh, wot makes ye think we’re bein’ tracked, eh?”

As if fearing to turn, Uggo gestured backward. “That noise just then. It sounded like somethin’ slitherin’ through the dry leaves, a snake maybe.”

At the mention of the word snake, a fearful moan arose from the shrews, who were mortally afraid of serpents.

Even the Log a Log looked apprehensive; he prodded Drogbuk. “Did ye say there was snakes round here, old un?”

The ancient hog nodded. “Aye, an’ I ain’t in the habit o’ tellin’ lies. That could be the sound of a snake!”

Swiffo gathered some dried moss. With knifeblade and flint, he began conjuring up a smouldering little heap. “Ahoy, Guosim, don’t sit there like crabs at a cookup, git gatherin’ dry wood. Fire’ll keep anybeast at bay, even snakes. C’mon, mates, show willin’!”

Nervously the Guosim set about their chore, encouraged by Dandy, who was putting on a brave face. Uggo and Posy joined in. Soon there was a sizeable stack of dead twigs and branches piled up for kindling.

Swiffo uttered a timely caution. “Don’t build the fire too big. We don’t want t’be faced by a forest fire.”

Suddenly, Posy, who had been gathering dead ferns, hurried toward the fire. She was ashen-faced, clutching her right paw with the left.

Dandy nodded to her. “Hurt yore paw, missy? Fall, did ye?”

The pretty young hogmaid was trying to stop her teeth chattering as she stammered an answer. “Th-th-think I’ve b-b-been bitten!”

Uggo hurried to her side. “Bitten by what, a snake?”

Posy sat down, rocking back and forth, still clutching her paw tightly. “Th-th-think it was a s-s-s-snake!”

Uggo felt his voice go shrill with panic. “Posy’s been bitten by a snake! Wot’ll we do?”

“Tell’er t’sit still, I’ll take a look.” Drogbuk trundled over, forcing Posy to relinquish her hold on the injured paw. He pushed his face close, inspected the mark, then sucked it and spat. Staring at the bright drop of blood that stood out, he cackled. “Heehee, it must’ve been a one-toothed serpent, missy. There’s only one puncture, snakes make two. Where did ye get it? Point out the spot t’me.”

Uggo nodded toward a fern bed. “We were t’gether, over yon.”

Taking a stick from the firewood pile, Drogbuk hobbled over to the ferns. He waved the stick amongst the plants as he grumbled, “Young uns t’day wouldn’t know a snakebite from a bloomin’ butterfly kiss. See, here’s yer snake!”

He held up a dead blackberry stem covered with prickly spines. “Ye can stop shakin’, missy. Ye’ll live—ouch! Gone an’ stuck meself now!”

He flung the broken stem from him, almost hitting Dobble, who came marching in followed by Frabb.

“Aye aye there, Granpa, watch where yore flingin’ things!”

Between them, the two Guosim were carrying the results of their foraging, bundled up in an old cloak.

Frabb emptied the contents on the ground. “Loads o’ mushrooms round ’ere, some dannelion roots, last autumn’s acorns, some ole chestnuts an’ this thing.”

Drogbuk picked up a big, brownish, wrinkled footballshaped growth and sniffed it.

“Found this stuck t’the side of a tree, didn’t ye? Cauliflower fungus, they calls it—makes fine eatin’ sliced up an’ roasted o’er the fire—”

With no prior warning, a missile flew out of nowhere, striking the big fungus out of Drogbuk’s paws. This was followed by a harsh commanding voice.

“Thieves who steal my food die!”

A very tall fox stepped out from behind a pine. He was slim but strong looking. He wore a cloak of black and green with a high collar. His pale green eyes swept over the travellers.

“I am Ketral Vane, Lord of the Hinterwoods. Leave that food here. Go now whilst ye still draw breath!”

Log a Log Dandy stepped in front of Swiffo, who was about to draw steel. The feisty Guosim Chieftain growled, “Whilst we still draw breath, eh? Fancy talk for a skinny vermin. I’m Log a Log Dandy Clogs, Chieftain o’ Guosim shrews, an’ I’m warnin’ ye, brushtail, interfere with us whilst we’re eatin’ an’ I’ll give ye a rapier blade to chew on!”

As he spoke, Dandy drew the Guosim blade, which he was now using, and advanced on the fox.

Ketral Vane stood immobile as six other foxes stepped out of the tree cover. Each had a crossbow strung, drawn and levelled at Dandy. Ketral’s cloak opened, revealing that he was similarly armed, though he had already fired the bolt at the fungus which Drogbuk had been holding.

Drogbuk stayed Swiffo’s paw. “Don’t try anythin’, wavedog. They’ll kill ye.”

Ketral Vane turned his attention to the ancient hog. “Twice before ye have been through my lands, old one. Why do ye return bringing these beasts with ye?”

Drogbuk shrugged. “We’re only passin’ through, don’t mean harm to anybeast. We was ’ungry, so the shrews rooted out some vittles. Ye wouldn’t begrudge starvin’ travellers a bite to eat, would ye, sire?”

One of the other foxes, an older vixen, answered, “The Lord of the Hinterwoods has spoken. Leave the food and begone, or die. Ketral Vane brooks no arguments!”

Uggo spoke out indignantly. “This ain’t no ’Interwoods,’tis all Mossflower Country!”

Drogbuk smacked the young hog’s face. “Ain’t ye gotten no brains? Yew was told not to argue!”

Ketral Vane, meanwhile, had been reloading a bolt into his crossbow. He reslung it without effort. Pointing the weapon at Uggo, he pronounced sentence.

“You argued, disputed my territory and stole food. Let this be a lesson to your companions. It will be a lesson too late for you, hedgepig, for you must die!”

Posy flung herself in front of Uggo, crying out, “No! You can’t just kill Uggo in cold blood. He hasn’t harmed you. Let us go. We’ll leave the food and travel now!”

The tall fox’s pale eyes narrowed cruelly. “Move aside or die. My word is law in the Hinterwoods. The one called Uggo is to be executed!”

Posy bravely stood her ground, making an impassioned plea. “No, I will not move. Please, I beg you, don’t do this!”

The fox’s voice was merciless. “Then die, both of you!”

Uggo and Posy clung to each other, their eyes shut tight.