Rakkety Tam (32 page)

Didjety was slightly flustered by the lavish praise being heaped upon her. But, being the practical volewife, she was quick to recover. “I thank ye both for yore faith in me. Now, we'd best get marchin'. Sure we don't want t'be late for supper tonight.”

With renewed vigour, they stepped out toward their goal. The great drum trundled easily alongside Doogy, who controlled it like a hoop, with a stout twig. To keep their spirits up he sang an old marching song he recalled from his Highland days.

 

“Set mah plate an' mah tankard on the table,

an' watch out for me comin' home tonight.

Keep mah supper in the oven if yore able,

an' in the window place a welcome light.

 

Tramp tramp tramp! Hear what the Sergeant said,

tonight ah'll be sleepin' in mah own wee bed!

 

No more layin”neath the stars in the heather,

no more eatin' what the greasy cook has burned,

no more toilin' through the cold'n'rainy weather,

once tae mah bonny home ah have returned.

 

Tramp tramp tramp! Hear what the Sergeant said,

tonight ah'll be sleepin' in mah own wee bed!”

 

On the “tramp tramp” bits, Doogy hit the drum with his twig. He could not recall any more of the verses, so he sang it twice again, with Yoofus and Didjety joining in on the chorus with gusto. After a while, Yoofus began eyeing the drum. Doogy could tell he was planning to steal it—by one means or the other.

The volethief grinned cheerily at him. “Ah, sure ye must be gettin' tired an' weary of luggin' an' pushin' that useless ould drum along. Why don't ye let me take charge of the clumsy thing for a bit?”

Doogy left Yoofus in no doubt that he was on to him. “Ah'll thank ye tae keep yore thievin' eyes off'n this drum. Ye ken 'tis the property o' Redwall Abbey, an' that's where I aim tae deliver it, all in good order. As tae what becomes o' yore goodwife's wee pet Rockbottom, well, the Abbot should be the one tae decide that!”

Didjety looked quite concerned. “But I couldn't be without dear liddle Rockbottom, he's me own darlin' pet. D'ye think the Abbot will want to keep him, Mister Plumm?” She sobbed visibly and wiped her eyes upon her pinafore.

Doogy patted the volewife's paw comfortingly. “From wot ah've seen of Abbot Humble, he's a kindly auld beastie. He'd no steal yore pet from ye, marm. Ah'll have a word wi' him mahself.”

Didjety smiled gratefully. “My thanks to ye, Mister Plumm. Yore a darlin', soft-hearted creature yoreself, to think of me the way ye do.”

Doogy's bushy tail rose in an arc over his head and dropped down to cover his face, a sure sign of embarrassment in any squirrel. “Och, away with ye, Missus Lightpaw. Ah only do it 'cos ah'm so powerful fond o' yore sausage rolls!”

 

The long day was drawing to a pleasant close as the weary travellers emerged from South Mossflower woodlands. Across the grassy commonland in front of them, Redwall Abbey rose majestically, all dusty pink and shadowed by the day's last sunlight. The water voles were walking slightly in front of Doogy, who was still rolling the drum along.

As a born warrior, Doogy had always possessed an inbred sense of danger. As they broke through the trees onto the grassland, the squirrel warrior's neck fur began prickling. The crack of paw upon twig caused him to whirl around, grabbing at his claymore hilt. He saw six vermin stalking through the undergrowth in an attempt to encircle him and his two friends, with Gulo the Savage at their centre.

The Highlander drew his claymore, yelling to the voles, “Run for it, mates. Get intae the Abbey, now!”

Yoofus and Didjety paused a moment, looking puzzled. Then they turned and saw the vermin.

Doogy launched himself at the enemy, roaring, “Run! Run! Ye can do no good here! Hawaaaaay the Braw!”

Yoofus grabbed his wife and hustled her wildly along. One of the vermin broke away from the rest, attempting to cut the water voles off. Doogy whirled, slaying him with a sweep of his claymore and as he did so, the Highlander's back was turned from the vermin for but a moment. That was all the time Gulo the Savage needed: he quickly grabbed a hefty rock and threw it at the Highlander. The missile made a clunking sound as it bounced off the back of Doogy's head. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Hauling his wife along, Yoofus ran as he had never run before. Neither of the voles looked back as they sped across the commonland toward the south wallgate.

With Rockbottom bouncing around in his backsling, the volethief threw himself at the wicker gate, panting and roaring, “Attack! Attack! For the love o' mercy, open the gate!”

Didjety joined him, wailing piteously, “Ah sure we'll be completely destroyed if y'don't let us in! Help! Heeeeelp!”

 

Fortunately, Ulba molewife was taking a group of Dibbuns for an evening stroll around the Abbey pond before packing them off to their beds. Brookflow the ottermaid accompanied them, lest any should fall into the water, a fairly common occurrence when Abbeybabes and ponds come into contact. The little party was skirting the south edge of the water when they heard the voles' impassioned cries.

Brookflow acted promptly, shouting out a course of action. “Get the little 'uns back to the Abbey, Ulba. I'll see what's goin' on out there. Send some help, just in case!”

The molewife had her paws full trying to keep the Dibbuns from following the ottermaid. “You'm h'infants cumm back yurr with oi. Miz Brooky, be ee vurry careful naow!”

No sooner had Brooky shot the bolts back and cracked open the wicker gate than she spied the voles, dancing up and down in agitation.

“Mister Lightpaw, it's you! What's goin' on out there?”

Yoofus shoved the door fully open and dashed inside, pulling Didjety along behind him. He wiped a paw across his brow. “Sure, an' who did ye think it was, a frog on a frolic? Quick, bar that gate! 'Tis teemin' wid vermin out there!”

Before there was time for further discussion, Tam, Skipper and the Long Patrol hares came charging along.

Yoofus relaxed, quickly regaining his composure now that the danger was past. “Well now, Mister MacBurl, aren't ye the grand ould sight fer me weary eyes! Oh, I don't think ye've met me darlin' wife. Say hello t'the good creatures, Didjety!”

Tam grabbed the volethief's paw roughly. “Where's Doogy Plumm, an' what's goin' on here? Speak!”

Yoofus winced. “Ouch! Leave off crushin' me paw t'bits an' I'll tell ye!”

Tam relaxed his grip. “Hurry up then, an' make it fast!”

 

The vermin who had been chasing the voles were about halfway across the commonland when Yoofus and Didjety
were admitted to the Abbey and the door slammed shut. Gulo looked down at Doogy's senseless form. He eyed the great drum, an idea forming in his mind. Signalling the vermin to return, he waited on them, nodding with satisfaction.

The wolverine issued orders. “Get ye this captive an' yon drum back into the woodlands. Move sharp now, I have a plan!”

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!