The Outcast of Redwall

36

It was the evening of the day Veil had robbed the dormice of their food and possessions, and the young ferret was not finding the going too easy. He chose a thick copse of pines for his camp. He brushed away the pine needles and dug a shallow hole, then he put steel to flint and made a small fire. Squatting by the flames, he ate some bread and cheese while roasting an apple. He was dozing, half asleep, wanned by the blazing pinecones and dead twigs, when two foxes arrived. At first Veil chose to ignore them. Though he was a bit startled and unsure of himself, he put on a tough face, making sure his knife and staff were clearly in evidence. Equally, both foxes feigned indifference to him. They squatted on the other side of the fire wordlessly. They were old and ragged, but sly looking. One carried a spear, the other a sling and pouch of stones. Drawing their tattered cloaks about them, they sat silent, casting the odd cunning glance toward the lone ferret.

Veil began to feel more uneasy, and he tried striking up a conversation with his uninvited visitors. “Where did you come from, friends? he asked.

The taller of the pair spat into the flames, narrowly missing Veils roasting apple.

“Nosy young snip, aint e, Brool?

The other smiled nastily, his eyes never leaving Veil. “Aye, stoopid too. We saw is fire from a good way off. Look, Vs got breadncheesenapples, a richbeast, eh, Renn!

Veil decided he could let the situation go no further. Holding his stave ready and brandishing the knife, he stood up and shouted, “Keep yer mangy paws off my vittles, Im not scared of you two ol ragbags!

The foxes worked their way around the fire until they were on either side of him. The one called Brool bared his few blackened tooth stumps. “Young uns these days aint got no respect, eh, Renn. Mangy ol ragbags? We got a cheeky one ere, no mistake!

The one called Renn neatly stabbed the roasting apple with his spear tip and, pulling it from the fire, he blew on it and took a bite. “Mmm, e cooks a decent apple though....

Veil grabbed at the spear, his voice shrill with anger. “You leave my apple alone, you dirty old ... Unnhh!

The young ferret had made the mistake of turning his back on Brool. The foxs sling, loaded with a heavy pebble, cracked down on Veils head from behind, laying him flat.

He came to his senses slowly, groaning at the triphammer throb in his skull. Both his paws were hoisted high, tied to an overhanging pine bough.

The two foxes were eating Veils food, cramming bread and cheese ravenously into their mouths. Brool took a drink from the flask; making a face he spat it out. “Yerk, water! Aint you got no good wine or ale, young un? Cold water dont sit easy on my stummick these seasons.

Renn sorted roughly through the traveling bag Veil had stolen from Ole Hoffy. “Nothin much in ere, Brool, jus a thin blanket an a few more apples. Not very considerate of yer, ferret!

Struggling against the tight bonds, Veil glared hatred at them. “Blunderin ol fools, dont you know who I am? Im Veil Sixclaw, son of Swartt the Warlord!

Renn tore a strip from the blanket and did a low servile bow. “Oh, fergive us, yer ighness! Yaaahahahah!

Then he gagged the young ferret firmly, boxing his ears and pulling his nose painfully. “Son of a Warlord, ydont say! Im the cousin of an eagle an a great fish meself. Wot about you, Brool?

“Who, me? Oh, Im the Queen o the flowery dell, pleased tmeet yer majesty, Im sure!

Both foxes fell about cackling. Forced to stand on tippaw, bound and gagged, Veil could only glare at them and make whining sobs of rage.

An even shade of gray washed the dawn sky, bringing dun-hued clouds and a steady downpour of rain. Bryony and Togget gathered up their belongings hurriedly from their camp on the open hills. The mole did not like rain.

Yurr, usns be soaken an cold ifn ee doant foind shelter, missie, ony fishes do loik ee rain!

The mousemaid pointed to the distant pine grove, saying, “Come on then, lets make for there; we can camp in the trees until the rain stops.

Togget took off, both paws over his head, calling back to Bryony, “Hoo aye, maken ee foire an git brekkfist a goin, oim gurtly ungered furr ee vittles!

The mousemaid ran after her companion, laughing. “Slow down, you great Dibbun, the rain wont melt you!

“Hurr, so ee says, missie, tho oi baint too sure!

It was dim and dry in the half light of the close-growing pines. They shook themselves off and began opening their pack. Bryony stopped, sniffing the air.

“Smoke, I can smell burning, she said.

Toggets smal! button nose twitched. “Youm roight, Bro-inee, sumbeast got flames burnen sumwheres.

The mousemaid fastened the haversack and shouldered it. “It may be Veil, but then again, it may not be. Go quietly, Togget, make no noise. Lets see who the fire belongs to.

Following the aromatic smell of burning pinecones, the two friends stole silently through the grove.

Bryony was first to spot the glow of flames between the trees. Taking care not to crack twigs underpaw, they stole forward, then, bellying down in the springy carpet of pine needles, they peered over a fallen trunk at the scene in a hollow below.

Brool and Renn were breakfasting off what was left of the bread and hurling apple cores at the bound figure dangling from a pine bough.

Bryony seized Toggets paw. “Look, its Veil! Those two foxes must have captured him!

“Hurr, but theym looken loik narstybeasts, wot can usns be a doin to elp maister Veil?

Bryony studied the situation below before answering. “Hmm, theyre armed, we couldnt risk an open fight. But I think I might have an idea that will work. Heres what we do!

Renn the fox threw some twigs on the fire and sprawled on the ground, eyeing Veil. “Dyou suppose this Swartt Warlord would pay a bit o ransom to ave his darlin son back in one piece, mate?

Brool looked at his companion pityingly. “You gone squishy in uY brains, Renn, the only thing a Warlord would give you for takinis kin prisoner would be yore own ead on a plate ... Yowp!

A hard, green pinecone struck the fox on his nose, followed a moment later by another, which bounced off his partners jaw.

Renn grabbed his spear, snarling, “Whos slingin cones? Owch! Another solid green cone hit him in the eye.

Brool was about to take his sling out when a green cone stung his paw. “Owowow! Hoi! Stop chuckin those tilings willy ... Agh! He fell back, clutching his mouth as he spat a broken tooth out.

Cones began whizzing in, thick and fast and accurate. The two foxes were battered and bewildered; the missiles seemed to be coming from everywhere. Renn could hardly see, having been struck in both eyes. Brool had been belted over the head five times in quick succession by cones, and was feeling very sore and dazed. They huddled together, crouching to escape the stinging rain of hard green cones, but the cones kept hur-ding in, thwacking them hard as ever, bouncing off their skinny backs and bottoms until Brool howled out, “Stoppit! Stoppit! Were goin!

Thwack! Ping! Thud! Clack! The green cones continued. The two foxes could bear it no more. “Yaaaah! Lets get outta ... Yeeek! Ooh! Yowp! They fled through the woods, away to where it was open ground, regardless of rain, limping and hopping in pain.

Togget rolled down into the hollow and sat with his paws hanging limply by his sides.

“Wourr, moi ole pawsll drop off ifn oi flings jus one more of they poiney cones, wourr!

Bryony stretched painfully to reach the ropes binding Veils paws to the bough. “Veil. Poor Veil, she cried.

The moment Veils paws were free he tore away the gag from his mouth and yelled angrily at the mousemaid, “What in the name of bloodnfur are you followin me for? Ignoring the hurt in Bryonys eyes, he continued. “Still spyin on me, eh! Why dont you jus leave me alone?

Bryony was dismayed and puzzled at Veils attitude. “But ... but... we saved you from those vermin! They might have ended up killing you, Veil!

The young ferret stormed about the hollow, rubbing life back into his paws, which were still numb from being bound. “Well, I didnt need savin, see! I was ready to slip those ropes and grab the spear. I can look after meself without you an that stupid mole runnin around tryin to nursemaid me.

Togget shook a heavy digging paw at him. “Youm watch ee tongue, maister, youm a gurtly ungrateful furret. Missie Broinee never did ought but good to ee!

Veil slumped beside the fire. “Well, where was she when they chucked me out of Redwall, eh? he sneered. “Ill tell you, sidin with all her goody-goody friends, thats where she was. Outcast they called me; nobeast raised a paw to elp me then.

Bryony placed a paw gently on his shoulder. “Oh, Veil, youre so wrong. Ive always been your friend, I care for you more than any creature living!

He shook her paw off and leapt up, grabbing his staff and belongings. “Get away from me, both of you! Goon, get back to your precious Abbey and spend your nights talkin about me an what a bad lot I was. Aye, Veil the vermin Outcast!

Togget ran between Veil and Bryony and shoved the young ferret backward, away from the mousemaid. “Hair, youm nought by a villyun, wi all yore bad talk! he shouted.

Veil rushed forward. “Out of my way! he snarled, pushing Togget roughly to the ground. The mole fell, hitting his head on a jutting rock.

Immediately Bryony was pummeling Veil with both paws. “You stupid beast! Me and Togget are the only friends you have in this world! Dont you see?

But in his rush to escape, Veil hurtled on, knocking her flat. Crawling on all fours, Bryony dragged herself to the stricken moles side. “Togget, are you hurt? If youve harmed this good creature... But she was talking to thin air. Veil had grabbed their remaining haversack of supplies and dashed off into the pines.

Bryony sat by the fire, cradling her molefriends head in her paws and weeping. Toggets eyelids flickered, then weakly he raised a digging claw and brushed a teardrop from her nosetip. “Oi thort et were a rainen again, hurr moi ole ead do be urted gurtly.

The mousemaid wiped away her tears and hugged him. ,; “Oh, Togget, thank goodness that youre alive! ; “Hurr, tis a wunner oi am, missie, layin yurr wi a lump v loik a mounting on moi ead, an ee crushen moi ribs tbits!

Out on the hills, the rain had stopped. It was a breezy midday when Veil sighted the two old foxes up ahead. At the point where hills met flatlands, a river, swollen by the rain, ran its winding course out onto the plain. The foxes were camped at its edge, using wet grass poultices to bathe the injuries from the sharp green pinecones. They did not see Veil until it was too late. Swinging his stave down hard with both paws, he hit Brool a vicious blow to the base of his skull. Then, grabbing a spear sticking into the ground next to Brool, he drove it into Renn. Rolling both foxes into the river, he watched them being borne away on the flow.

“When you get to Dark Forest tell them Veil the Outcastsent you!

The river was flowing in a westerly direction. Veil followed its banks until he found what he was looking for, an old willow trunk, washed up there after winter. Levering it into the water with the spear butt, he waded in and boarded it. Straddling the trunk, the young ferret made a meal of scones and crystallized fruit from the haversack as he was borne westward. Far in the distance he could see mountains.