Doomwyte

27

In his anxiety to grab Zaran’s sword, Dubble made a snatch in the dark. He fell from the poplar trunk, onto the hillside. Whatever his attacker was, it fell upon him. The young Guosim could not help letting out a yelp as he and his assailant rolled down the slope, locked together. They crashed into a bush. Dubble had not managed to get the sword, but he began battling tooth and paw to free himself. The thing did not put up much fight, but its size overwhelmed him—he was smothered by a dark, feathery mass. Dubble gave a muffled shout as it enveloped his face. Panic swept through him, the suffocating bulk robbed him of breath.

As suddenly as it had started, his ordeal ended. The thing was heaved from him, and he found himself lying flat on his back, staring up at the dark, savage face of Zaran, the black otter. She nodded curtly at the dark bundle lying nearby.

“Only crow, ’twas almost dead.” Zaran made a twisting motion with her powerful paws, and a clicking sound issued from her mouth. “Crow dead now, Zaran make sure of that!”

There was a commotion of cawing and flapping from down at the cave entrance. Dubble followed Zaran to a place where they could see what all the upset was about. Even in the dark of night, a number of dead and badly injured birds could be seen. Some were draped about the branches of the downy birch, others lay limp in the stream. Wide-eyed, the young shrew turned to his companion.

“What is it, what’s happenin’?”

The otter pulled him to her side; gripping the back of Dubble’s neck, she directed his gaze to where the small stream swirled around the rocky entrance. “See…. It is Baliss!”

The young shrew shuddered as he saw the tail of the reptilian bulk sliding slowly into the passage of the subterranean lair.

Veeku, leader of the carrion crows, stumbled into the rear cave, one wing hanging useless at his side. He crowed weakly, “Craaak, Baliss is here.”

Korvus Skurr emerged from the shadows, mounting the rock above the deep, cold pool, where his monstrous fish, Welzz, dwelt. He stood impassively, trying to hide his fear as he awaited Veeku’s full report. Korvus had hoped, against hope, that the big snake might not reach his caves. From the messages that had reached him, he knew Baliss was badly hurt, and acting strangely. But all the Lord of the Ravenwytes’ speculations had been in vain. The giant adder had not succumbed to illness, or suffered further injury. It was inevitable, the massive reptile was akin to a force of nature. Baliss was unstoppable, and now he had finally arrived at the threshold of the Doomwytes’ realm.

Favouring his broken wing, Veeku nodded back to the entrance tunnel. “Yaaarrr, Baliss has slain and wounded many carrion crows outside, now he rests in the passage to your main cavern. I was lucky to escape with my life, Mighty One.”

Showing no sympathy for Veeku’s plight, Korvus Skurr stood watching the entrance between both caves. His keen eyes had not missed the smoothsnake trying to slide in undetected. The raven called out in a harsh monotone, “Raaaharr, come in, Sicariss, attend me. I will not slay you, we need counsel, my friend.”

Sicariss had been avoiding her raven master for awhile. Still she had sought him out, knowing that old quarrels would be forgotten now, in the face of the ultimate peril. She wriggled forward, staying at a safe distance. “Lord of Doomwytesssss, how can my humble counsel help? I am at your ssssservice.”

There was an amount of water in the entrance tunnel, which had slopped in from the stream outside. Baliss laid his diseased head in it, trying to gain some temporary relief from the hot, throbbing pain which raged through his senses.

The giant reptile could neither smell the poisoned air, wafting from the boiling, sulphurous lake, nor visualise its immensity. Baliss lived in a world of pain, wrath and madness. The cold-water immersions were growing less effective as the infection from long-embedded hedgehog spines advanced, worsening rapidly. Truly, he could feel his once strong life starting to ebb.

The snake held his blunt snout in the shallow trough of water. Only the desire for revenge on Korvus Skurr and his creatures drove him onward, filling his crazed mind and occupying every waking moment. The narrow passage was completely blocked by the thick coils of Baliss.

From their vantage point above the entrance, the two watchers saw the end of the giant adder’s tail slide out of sight, into the hill. A thought struck Dubble. “If we could only collapse this lot in right now! Just think, Zaran, all Mossflower’d be rid of that slimy monster, as well as Skurr and his gang, eh?”

The black otter shook her head ruefully. “Not ready, Dubble, too much work yet.”

Together they made their way back to Zaran’s retreat beneath the streambank ledge, where Dubble began kindling a small fire with flint and the otter’s steel blade. He shrugged when the otter looked at him quizzically.

“There’s no need to hide away now, I don’t think our enemies are lookin’ to ambush us. Huh, they ain’t in any position to attack anybeast right now. Fetch yore vittles out, mate. I’ll cook us a nice late supper whilst we try to think up some sort o’ plan. Wot rations have ye got there?”

Zaran had very little—a withered section of comb honey, a few nuts and berries and two big apples, wrinkled but still edible.

Dubble grinned at her encouragingly. “Us Guosim are great cooks, I’ll soon show ye a trick or two. I’ll borrow that blade o’ yores, if’n I might. You put more wood on the fire.”

There was only streamwater to drink, but Zaran was pleased with her friend’s inventive cooking. They tucked into roasted apples, filled with berries, nuts and hot liquid honey, which Dubble had stuck on sharpened sticks.

The young shrew nibbled away reflectively, posing the question, “Isn’t there anythin’ we can do to collapse that entrance in? Maybe I’ll help ye to dig, so we’ll get done quicker.”

The otter licked honey from her paw. “No faster, Dubble only get in my way.”

The young shrew hmmphed indignantly. “Sorry I opened me mouth!”

Zaran flashed him one of her rare smiles. “I did not mean to hurt you, friend.”

Dubble sipped water from a rough clay bowl. “I know ye didn’t, no offence taken, mate. What?”

Zaran held up a paw to silence him; leaning toward the water, she listened carefully. Then Dubble heard the splash also. This was accompanied by a hollow bumping sound, and two quarrelsome voices.

“I told you to paddle on the other side, now look what you’ve done!”

“Hah, wot I’ve done, ya puddle-’eaded Abbeymouse, didn’t ye never learn t’paddle?”

“Glubb, yuk! No, didn’t you?”

“Gonfelins don’t need boats, so wot’s the blinkin’ use of learnin’ ’ow to wave an oar around, eh?”

“Oh, stop moaning an’ give me y’paw before you drown!”

“Huh, me drown? Who d’ye think helped ya t’the bank!”

Jumping into the water, Dubble began wading out to the main stream. “I know who that is, come on, mate!”

Bisky was on the bank, pulling a dripping Spingo up onto the rocks, when his paw slipped and she fell, splashing back into the water.

She floundered about, yelling, “Didn’t they ever teach ya how t’pull a beast out o’ the water at that bloomin’ Abbey…. ’Ey, wot? Leggo! Gerroff me!”

But the black otter lifted her, spluttering, onto the bank. “I am Zaran, friend of Dubble, you safe now, stop shouting!”

Dubble moored the capsized Guosim logboat to the shore. “Wot’n the name o’ fur’n’feathers are you two doin’ here?”

Bisky waved cheerily to him. “We’ve come to save you, in case you were in trouble!”

Dubble shook his head in disbelief. “Me in trouble? Oh, an’ where did ye get the Guosim logboat, who said ye could borrow it?”

Spingo stamped her paw irately. “That was ole bright snout’s idea, we found it up a sidestream, with some others. But I wish we’d left it where it was now, flippin’ useless thing!”

Dubble gave the slim craft a sharp heave, tipping the water out and setting it upright. He retrieved the paddles, throwing them in the logboat. “Well, at least ye picked the pride o’ the fleet. That’s Tugga Bruster’s vessel, he won’t let anybeast near it!”

Spingo giggled. “Oh, I’m glad it was that ole sourface’s boat I pinched. Shame we never sunk it for good.”

Bisky went a few paces down the bankside and retrieved their haversacks, which were safe and dry. “Good job I slung these ashore before we were shipwrecked. Anyone for a bite o’ supper?”

Dubble winked at Zaran. “Oh, I think we could manage a bite or two, especially if’n those vittles come from Redwall. Come on, ye can get dried out by our fire.”

The searchers sat around the fire, steam rising from them as they listened to the account of Dubble’s travels. A Redwall supper was much appreciated. Zaran took an immediate liking to Friar Skurpul’s hefty dumplings; the rest, including dandelion and burdock cordial, went down exceedingly well. Bisky brought Dubble up to strength on the news from the Abbey prior to their departure, finishing with their encounter with Tugga Bruster. Dubble averted his face from the firelight, obviously embarrassed.

“I don’t blame ye for what ye did to Bruster, mate. I know he’s me father, but I’ve never liked him. He’s always been a bully an’ a slybeast. D’ye know I used to look at other young Guosim, whose dads had been killed, or gone off missin’, an’ I wished I was like ’em. Awful thing t’say, ain’t it?”

Spingo nudged the Guosim shrew playfully. “My da always sez ye can’t choose yore family, but ye can choose yore friends. So never mind, Dubbo, ye’ve always got us, we’re as good as family!”

They sat in silence, gazing into the flames, until Zaran noticed them yawning. “Sleep now, I keep watch. Dry and warm here, you sleep!” The otter brought some moss and dried grasses from the back ledges, spreading them around. Dubble curled up next to his friends.

“Aye, sleep, an’ while y’do, try an’ think of an idea that’ll help Zaran an’ me to collapse that entrance in. Redwall wouldn’t be troubled agin by Wytes an’ that big snake if’n ye could.”

Watching the shifting water patterns cast by the firelight on the ledges, listening to the peaceful gurgle of the night streamwater as it played along the bankside, the three young creatures fell asleep, each with their own thoughts and dreams.

Starlight twinkled along Zaran’s double-bladed sword. She sat outside on the rocks, ever watchful, determined that the tragedy which had befallen her own family would not be visited on her new young friends.