Rakkety Tam (22 page)

It was still dark as a flotilla of logboats and rafts pulled into the bough-shaded bank. Rakkety Tam MacBurl, Doogy, Skipper, Ferdimond and Yoofus slipped ashore quietly. Guosim shrews held the other craft steady as the rest of the hares disembarked. Log a Log Togey joined them with his two scouts.

“Tam, this is Oneshrew an' Twoshrew, my best trackers. They know where Gulo an' his vermin are camped. They'll lead ye there. Do wot ye got to do, then get out fast, mate. My trackers'll take ye up to the pines where the black birds roost. The rest is up to you. Now when ye leave the pines, there'll be bushland an' a hill to the east. Beyond the hill is a fast-flowin' river—make for it. I'll be waitin' there with my logboats for ye. Be lucky an' don't hang around in the pines, or those birds will peck the eyes outta yore 'ead afore ye can wink at 'em!”

Tam shook the shrew chieftain's paw. “My thanks to ye, Togey. Corporal Wopscutt, get your hares to follow us in skirmishin' order. Everybeast stick together. We can't hang about for stragglers.”

Doogy and Ferdimond were up at the front, with Yoofus between them. The water vole panted and puffed; he did not like keeping up the rapid pace through the still-dark woodlands. “Ah sure, me ould limbs'll be entirely ruinated wid all this dashin' an' gallopin' about!”

Ferdimond lent a paw to pull him along. “Save y'breath, old lad, an' let your paws do the runnin'.”

Doogy grabbed the thief's other paw. “Och, ah'm fair grieved ye cannae stop tae sniff the daisies. Move yoreself, ye wee snail!”

Tam was at the head of the bunch with the shrews on either side of him. One of them beckoned him to slow down. “The vermin camp's not far ahead. We best go careful now.”

The border warrior peered at the shrew in the grey haze which precedes dawn. “Right y'are, mate. Which are you, Oneshrew or Twoshrew?”

The tracker scowled as a hare ran into her back. “I'm Oneshrew. She's me sister, Twoshrew.”

Wilderry commented, “Dashed funny names, wot?”

She was still scowling. “No funnier'n yores, matey. We came from a big family, so me daddy called us all by number.”

Yoofus was regaining his breath, yet he managed to quip, “An' how many brothers'n'sisters did ye have, a few hundred?”

Twoshrew glared at him. “There was only twenny-six of us. Now shut yore face or the vermin'll hear us!”

 

Dawn was just breaking when a vermin sentry came stumbling into camp. Clutching a swollen ear, the ermine tripped as he skirted the fire embers, shouting, “Mighty One! Quickly, sire!”

Gulo leapt up, brushing sparks from his fur. “What is it fool? Speak!”

The ermine sentry pointed as he babbled. “Over there, sire. 'Twas thy brother, I swear! There were others with him!”

Gulo grabbed the hapless sentry by the neck and swung him off the ground. The wolverine roared urgently, “Askor, ye say? Where . . . What happened?”

“Gye goz gust . . . gluuurggg!”

Realising that he was throttling the ermine, Gulo let go. The unfortunate vermin lay on the ground, nursing his throat with one paw and his ear with the other. “Mighty One, I was standing guard when I heard a noise behind me. As I turned, a big cloaked beast banged my head against a tree, sire. The others trampled over me as they ran off!”

Gulo towered over the quaking sentry, who he knew had been caught napping by the intruders. “How did ye know 'twas my brother? Did ye see him clear?”

The ermine scrabbled backward as he explained. “I did not see his face, Mighty One. But the size of him, it could have only been thy brother, sire. Aye, and when I saw the prints he left, they were the same as yours!”

Gulo thundered off in the direction the sentry had pointed. He spied the deep clawmarks with fur brushings at the edges and turned to bellow at his wakening followers. “Leave everything save your weapons! Hurry, Askor must not escape! Move! Move!”

 

Dawn sunlight penetrated the woodland mists as Tam and his band dashed headlong through ferns and bushes. They made no attempt to disguise their tracks, shouting aloud as they ran, “Askor! Askor! Askoooooor!”

Skipper lifted Yoofus from his broad shoulders, then kicked off the bulrush spikes attached to his footpaws. He ripped apart the two cloaks which had been sewn together, winking at Yoofus. “Well, matey, d'ye reckon that did the trick, eh?”

The volethief grinned. “Ah, 'twas a grand ould ruse, sir. But d'ye not think that a fine big beast like yerself could carry a poor, wornout water vole a bit further on those strong shoulders?”

The otterchief nodded readily. “Good idea, cully. I'll
carry ye 'til midday, then you carry me 'til sunset. Is it a bargain?”

Yoofus shook his head ruefully. “Ah, yer a dreadful plank-tailed ould hooligan, so y'are. An' here's meself thinkin' ye were a kind friend!”

Vermin yells from not too far behind set them running pell-mell again. Doogy grabbed the volethief's paw. “Ah wish't MacBurl'd think up some plans that are a wee bit slower. Come on, ye wee laggard, afore ye become vermin vittles!”

Tam urged everybeast onward. Then he took up the rear with Corporal Wopscutt and Ferdimond, allowing the Guosim trackers to lead everybeast to the pines.

Butty speeded up as the vermin howls behind them grew louder. He smiled wryly at Tam. “Pretty desperate plan of yours, MacBurl. Let's hope the black birds haven't tootled off t'see their distant blinkin' cousins, wot?”

Tam dropped back a pace. “No need to run so fast. We don't want to lose Gulo's mob, do we?”

Ferdimond slowed to match Tam's pace. “You're right there, old sport. Bit risky, though, ain't it?”

The din from the vermin swelled louder through the trees; they were drawing closer. Tam laughed recklessly. “All the best plans are a bit risky, Ferdy. Mind those tree roots now, there's a steep hill comin' up.”

Unfortunately, neither Doogy nor Yoofus was within hearing of Tam's remark. The water vole was gripping the Highlander's paw tight as he tripped over a mess of protruding hawthorn roots. They cartwheeled sideways and shot off to the side, rolling downhill together. Crashing through bushes but luckily avoiding several big trees, the pair thudded down into a dried-up ditch, deep with seasons of leaf loam.

Dizzy and bruised, Doogy managed to sit upright, so that his head stuck out above the loam. He spat out a few dried leaves. “Ach, ye fiddle-pawed fool, why didn't ye leggo of mah paw?”

The head of Yoofus emerged, with a crown of rotten leaves wreathing it. “Ah, give over, ye fur-tailed fibber. 'Twas yoreself that tripped, not me. Sure I only kept ahold of yore paw to try an' stop ye fallin'. An' that's all the thanks I get? You squirrels are mis'rable ould things, sure enough. Whups, duck yore head quick!”

He pulled Doogy beneath the leaves as the vermin thundered past, yelling and shouting. When the sounds receded, they both sat up again. Doogy spat out more leaves. “Ah'm thinkin' we've been dropped from Tam's plan, eh?”

Yoofus sighed with relief. “Ah well, thank goodness for that! There's an end to all that runnin' like a madbeast.”

Doogy stood up but immediately had to sit down again, groaning in pain. “Agh! Ah think ah've broken mah footpaw!”

The water vole scrambled out of the ditch. He hauled his friend up and inspected the damaged limb. “Sure that's never broken, 'tis only an ould pawsprain. An' ye've chipped a claw. I can fix that up for ye!”

The Highlander sat there bemoaning his fate. “Ah've mised a braw fight, an' we're lost, an' mah paw is achin' fit tae beat the band!”

Yoofus smeared the paw with mud, laid dockleaves on and bound it firmly with ivy vines. “Will ye lissen to yoreself! Lost? I'm never lost in Mossflower. An' as for missin' any fightin', what good would ye be with a wounded paw? Give yore ould gob a rest, mate. We'll make out just fine!”

Doogy laughed mirthlessly. “Doin' what?”

The thief wrinkled his nose mischievously. “Did ye not notice? The vermin left their camp to chase after us in a grand ould hurry. 'Twill be unguarded now an' full of little gifts, just for me'n you, me ould tatercake!”

Doogy shook his head at the volethief's audacity. “Och, ye don't miss a trick, do ye? I like the idea o' lootin' the vermin camp. Yer a canny wee rascal, Yoofus!”

The water vole danced a little jig, rubbing his paws at the prospect. “Ah sure, there's nothin' grander than
thievin' from thieves. Lend me yore big knife now, an' I'll cut ye a crutch to stump along on.”

Passing over his beloved claymore, Doogy warned Yoofus, “Mind ye now, ah want that back!”

The thief's face was the picture of injured innocence. “Ooh, pickle yore tongue, Doogy Plumm. Fancy sayin' somethin' like that to a friend like me!”

The Highlander watched Yoofus cutting a yew staff. “Rakkety Tam MacBurl's the only true friend ah've ever had. Ah hope his plan's workin' out well for him right now.”

 

Tam noticed that the woodlands were not as dense and that the ground underpaw had become sandy. Oneshrew pointed through the thinning trees as they ran. “Ye can see the pines up yonder, look.”

Beyond the trees, a stretch of heathland spread up to a gentle rise, atop of which was a sizable area of pine trees. Tam, however, could see no rooks or crows hovering about them. He mentioned this to his Guosim guides. “I don't see any of the black birds around those pines.”

Twoshrew assured him, “Don't let that fool ye, sir. The villains are there, sure enough.”

Oneshrew agreed with her sister. “Aye, you just try enterin' the trees, an' you'll see 'em alright!”

Corporal Butty Wopscutt cast a backward glance. “Birds or not, we'll have t'go forward pretty sharpish, old chap. The foebeasts'll be right on our tails in a few ticks. So what's the plan, eh?”

Tam drew the sword of Martin. “We group together in a tight bunch. Everybeast with sword, spear or lance, hold your weapons point up. But only when I give the command, Up Arms! I want us to go in there like one giant hedgehog. Go slow across the heathland. I want Gulo an' his vermin to see us, so they'll speed up. The moment we're in the pines, we'll have to run twice as fast as the vermin. But remember, stay close together, keep your points
up an' charge right through that pine grove like a bolt o' lightnin'. You shrews, stay out of the trees. Circle to the left, get to your Log a Log at the river an' tell him to make the boats ready, 'cos we'll be comin'.”

Wopscutt gripped his sword hilt as he gave the order. “Long Patrol—blades, spears'n'javelins at the ready! Advance in close order at a jog. . . .”

The younger hares were looking nervously over their shoulders. Behind them the roar of vermin was growing in volume. Catching sight of a white flash among the trees, Ferdimond knew that the foebeasts were not too far off. He was relieved to hear the corporal complete his command.

“Steady at the rear there! Long Patrol will advance!”

Gulo was making heavy going of the chase. Slowing down, he fell to the back of the pack, panting hoarsely.

A slender ermine runner with patched fur dropped back from the front to report, “Mighty One, they are in sight!”

The wolverine wiped foaming slobber from his gaping mouth. “We must catch them. . . . Can ye see my brother Askor?”

The ermine moved sideways a pace, wisely out of Gulo's immediate reach. “Sire, 'tis hard to tell. They are bunched up and the trees are in the way, but I am sure thy brother is with them. Methinks we have outrun them, sire. They have slowed down to little more than a trot.”

Wild hope surged through Gulo's huge muscular body as he bounded forward with a burst of renewed energy. “Get them! Kill them! Kiiiiilll!”

Drawing curved swords, axes, spears and knives, the foxes and ermine dashed forward with their chieftain, howling as they broke out onto the heathland, “Gulo! Gulo! Gulo! Kill! Kill!”

 

Harsh, raucous cries began echoing through the pines as great, dark shapes visibly flapped about amid the branches. Tam and the hares were mere paces away from the forbidding darkness of the groves. The vermin were roaring across the heath toward them.

Tam MacBurl's face was fixed in a tight, dangerous smile as he spoke calmly to the younger Patrol hares. “Eyes front now, steady in the ranks. Don't run yet, nice steady pace now. That's the ticket! Don't look back.”

Ferdimond felt his fur rise like wire at Tam's shout.

“Up arms! Charge! Haway Braaaaaaaw!”

A sea of spear, sword and javelin points bristled upward. The hares charged into the pines, bellowing the Long Patrol war cry into the dim, green-cast gloom. “Eulaliiiiiaaaaaaa!”

Then the air became thick with huge black birds—crows and rooks—winging down to attack the trespassers. A madness had fallen upon both birds and beasts. Weapons flashed upward as beaks and talons slashed downward. Tam took a big rook through its open beak as it dived to peck at his eyes. He swung it from his sword and parried at another with his dirk. Yelling out war cries like madbeasts, Ferdimond and Butty whipped away at the dark-feathered masses. Both warriors covered their eyes with a paw as they thundered ahead toward a glimmer of sunlight that pierced the dim grove. Alongside Tam, a hare stumbled, her ear half torn off by cruel, raking bird talons. By grabbing on to the hare's homespun tunic, Tam was able to drag her up and along with him. Then, thrusting his dirk into her weaponless grasp, the Borderer urged her on. “Keep goin', me pretty. We're nearly there. Haway Braaaaaaaw!”

The light from the outside grew brighter, dispersing the darkness and illuminating the flashing of steel. Paws pounded the thick floor of dead pine needles, scattering them broadcast. Ragged, dark shapes squawked; beaks pecked; and glistening talons ripped savagely at fur, eyes, paws—even at naked steel blades.

Then they were out!

The Long Patrol broke forth into the high, bright
midday—sobbing, cheering, weeping, laughing and still shouting war cries.

Butty Wopscutt made sure the last hare was out. Never forgetting his duty, the gallant corporal rapped out orders to all and sundry. “Straighten y'selves up now! Form ranks and keep those weapons drawn. Face to the trees—it ain't over yet, buckoes. Never mind y'wounds, stay on the alert!”

One or two crows almost came out beyond the grove but then wheeled and turned at the cries from within. Mad with bloodlust, they hurled themselves back to meet Gulo and the vermin headlong.

Ferdimond found Tam cleaning his blade on a tussock of grass. “Tam, there's no sign of Doogy or Yoofus. I can't see 'em anywhere. What'll we do?”

The border warrior's jaw tightened. “Not a thing if either of 'em went down among those birds. But somehow I can't see that happenin' to Doogy Plumm or that crafty vole. We've got to get away from here fast!”

Ferdy nodded curtly. “Right y'are, Tam. We've lost three hares, an' there's a good number wounded. Gettin' back t'the river an' the shrewboats is the best plan. Then we can regroup an' plan ahead. By the way, was Doogy an' the volechap with you when we entered the pines?”

Tam shook his head. “No! Weren't they with you, Wilderry?”

Lancejack sheathed his long rapier. “No, I was bringin' up the rear. I never saw either of 'em. Come t'think of it, I didn't catch sight of 'em at the edge of the woods or whilst we were crossin' the heath. I hope those two are alright, wot!”

Tam accepted his dirk back from the young hare with the torn ear. “Looks like they weren't with us for a while. Don't fret, I'll take my oath on it that those two rogues are safe an' well someplace.”

Wopscutt waggled a paw in his ear at the screeches and squawks which were emanating from deep in the pines. “Good grief, let's get away from that racket. Patrol! Come to attention—smartly! About turn, lead off by the right an' head for that big hill yonder. Quick march!”

Going down the easy slope into a valley, the Patrol entered the trees and began marching uphill. Now that they had come through the ordeal of the pines and were temporarily free of the pursuing vermin, talk of the battle was bandied about. Weary but elated, the young hares chattered as they marched on.

“Wait'll we get back to Salamandastron and tell 'em about that, eh wot?”

“Rather, look at this scar I've got on me blinkin' cheek. Blighter who did that looked more like a bloomin' eagle than a crow! Huh, he won't be flyin' tonight, though—no sir!”

“Hah, that's nothin'! There was one bird there the size of a flippin' feather mattress. Picked me up by me ear, would y'believe! I lost my sword, but I kicked him until the fiend let me go. Mister MacBurl loaned me his big knife, so I finished the villain off. Aye, an' two more like him. . . .”

The speaker's voice trailed off as she noticed that Tam was within hearing range. The border warrior looked over at her and winked. “That's right, I saw it myself. You were very brave, miss, an example to the Patrol.”

His remark set off a string of other tales, each one full of self-congratulation.

“Did y'see me, Mister MacBurl? I had two on the point of my javelin quick as a flash!”

“One was swoopin' down on me, an' I remembered Sarge Wonwill's boxin' lessons. I hit him such a punch that the blighter shot to one side an' buried his beak in an oak. Hoho, you should've seen him strugglin' t'get loose, flappin' an' scratchin' like I don't know what, wot!”

“Hold on, buried his beak in an oak? That was a pine grove! Wasn't a flamin' oak in sight, old lad!”

“Oh, er, haha, did I say oak? I meant a pine, yes, a pine!”

The boasts went back and forth until Wopscutt whispered to Tam, “Did I tell you about how I slew a score of rooks an' carried four wounded out on my back?”

Tam stifled a laugh as he replied, “Don't be too hard on the young 'uns, it was prob'ly their first real battle. Can you remember how you boasted after your first encounter,
mate? I can—it took them a full season to shut me up, the way I bragged about it.”

Butty chuckled. “I recall it well, Tam. I was very young then, but to hear me tell the tale o' that battle, 'twas a waste o' time attendin' it for the Long Patrol. Accordin' to me, I won it single-pawed. Let 'em carry on with their tall tales, wot. They're not doin' harm to anybeast by boastin'. After a few days the excitement'll wear off. Then one night they'll cry themselves t'sleep, rememberin' the pals they lost back there.”

Tam nodded slowly. “Aye, I can remember doin' that myself.”

 

When they reached the hilltop, the Patrol could see the river far below through the trees. Oneshrew and Twoshrew were waiting to meet Tam at the hilltop.

Oneshrew shook his paw. “Well, sir, ye came out of it alive. Did yore plan work?”

The border warrior glanced back at the pine grove on the far hillcrest. “I think so, at least Gulo isn't out of there yet. Though I can't imagine a monster like him t'be defeated by any number o' black birds. Can you?”

Twoshrew shrugged eloquently. “Maybe, maybe not. We've been sent here to watch the land, an' get word back if he shows by tomorrow's dawn. Our Log a Log is waitin' down there for ye, he's got a feed laid on.”

Tam tweaked Ferdimond's ear. “Did ye hear that? The Guosim have got vittles ready for us.”

Without further ado, Ferdimond set off briskly downhill. “I say, jolly decent of the old shrewtypes, wot. They certainly know how to sling a salad an' present a pastie. Haw haw haw! Fightin' by mornin' an' feastin' by night, eh? Just show me that bloomin' grub!”

Tam nodded to Butty. “Hear that? He's almost forgotten the fight, the moment food was mentioned!”

The corporal marched off smartly in Ferdimond's wake. “Well, wot can one expect? The chap's young—he's got an appetite an' he's a hare. Stands t'reason, don't it?”

Tam kept pace downhill with Butty, listening to a little ditty he was singing.

 

“I wake up in the mornin', so glad the night is past,

it's straight down to the table, to break my flippin' fast.

O Breakfast! Breakfast! Us chaps must have some breakfast,

there's oatmeal honey toast an' tea, an' seconds just for me!

 

When I finish brekkers, I hang around the kitchen,

the smell of vittles cookin' is gettin' quite bewitchin'.

Luncheon! Luncheon! That's wot I'll soon be munchin',

on soup'n'salad chomp an' chew, I think I should eat two!

 

The afternoon's a desert, I wait impatiently,

until I hear the cook call, he's servin' noontime tea.

O Teatime! Teatime! An utterly sublime time,

each dainty cake an' homely scone, I'm first in line for one!

 

When chaps race to the table, it's always me the winner,

I'm fairly famished as a frog, when I run in to dinner.

O Dinner! Dinner! My figure ain't much thinner,

I lick at both my plate an' paw, then I yell out for more!

 

I'm starvin' flippin' hungry, oh isn't it a crime,

that interval from dinner, to good old suppertime.

Supper! Supper! How super, serve 'er up, sir,

then pack some scoff up good'n'tight, to take to bed tonight!”

 

The Guosim cooks had dug a baking pit on the riverbank with a fire to one side of it.

Log a Log Togey greeted Tam and Butty warmly. “It does me heart good to see ye again, mates. Well then, how did yore plan work out? Is everybeast back in one piece?”

Tam returned the Guosim chieftain's hearty pawshake. “We left Gulo an' his vermin to argue it out with the black birds. I'm still waitin' on the outcome of it. There's six or seven hares wounded, but not too badly. We lost three to the crows'n'rooks—I didn't imagine there'd be so many birds roostin' in those pines. Doogy an' Yoofus have gone missin', but I'm sure those two rogues are still on the loose someplace. So, how goes it with you an' yore Guosim, friend?”

Togey pointed to the pit and the fire. “Whilst we was waitin', the cooks spotted a shoal o'trout swimmin'upriver, so we snared a few. They've got a troutbake goin'. It'll be ready afore evenin'. I've posted two lookouts to watch the pines for ye. My healers will tend to yore wounded. Come aboard for some snacks an' a drink. There's somethin' that's been botherin' me, I want to talk with ye about it.”

Tam, Butty and Ferdimond sat beneath an awning on Togey's big logboat, drinking rosehip cordial and nibbling at a tray of preserved fruits. With the late noon sunlight shimmering off the gently flowing water, Tam and the hares sat back and relaxed for the first time that day.

Butty called to the young hares on the bank who were shouting and gesticulating as they told the Guosim of their heroic exploits. “I say, you chaps, please keep it down to a dull roar!” He turned to the shrew chieftain. “Now then, old lad, what's on y'mind, eh?”

Togey scratched his beard. “It's somethin' ye said back at the water meadows, Tam. When ye joined up with the Long Patrol hares, how many vermin were ye trackin'?”

The border warrior pursed his lips. “Oh, about fivescore, I figured—an' Gulo, of course. But no more'n that.”

Togey nodded. “I thought that's wot ye said. But when I sent Oneshrew an' Twoshrew out to find where the vermin
were camped last evenin', they reported back that there was only slightly more'n twoscore of 'em!”

Ferdimond glanced from one to the other. “Oh corks! That leaves half o' the blinkin' villains unaccounted for, wot?”

Butty bit his lip. “Y'know what that means, Tam?”

Tam stood up, fired by a sense of urgency. “The other half'll be attackin' the Abbey. We'd best get the Patrol on the move back to Redwall!”