The Outcast of Redwall

37

Bryony would not let Togget travel until midafternoon. When they quit the pine grove she made a compress of rain-wet dock leaves and bound it to his forehead. Hungry and dispirited, they pressed onward. Bryony had to put up with listening to a relentless menu of Toggets favorite foods; she let him ramble on, knowing he was trying to forget the ache in his head. He trudged by her side, arranging meals.

“Oi loiks damsen pudden wi lots o meadowcrearn on et, an oi favors noo-baked bread, hurr, wi ole yellow cheese an a gurt summer salad. Ho, but deepernever turnipnta-ternbeetroot pie, hoo urr! Oid swap moi tail furr one roight naow, wi gudd mushyroom gravy poured thick atop of et!

The visions conjured up by Toggets descriptions soon had Bryony comparing her favorite dishes with him. “Id like a beaker of strawberry cordial and a big pastie, a mushroom, potato, and onion one; after that I think Id go for some hot apple-and-blackberry crumble, with sweet white arrowroot sauce poured all over it. Then Id have a wedge of white cheese, the one with almonds and hazelnuts in it, and one, no two, of Friar Bunfolds fresh oatfarls, straight from the oven. Yummy!

Togget held one paw to his forehead and the other to his stomach. “Aow, missie, do be soilent, oim tumble angry! “Well, you started it, moleyface! Look, theres a river! They made camp on the riverbank, and Bryony redampened Toggets poultice with river water. Nowhere was anything edible to be found. The country ahead of them sloped slightly downward, running off to a flat plain, grassy and deserted. Behind a small hillock they snuggled down on the lee side; away from the breeze, it was quite sunny and warm. Togget was snoring gently and Bryonys eyes were beginning to droop when she heard a deep bass voice singing:

“One day in spring I said to me wife,

Though were close together as forknknife,

An Ive loved ydearly all of me life,

Still Ill have to follow the wateeeeeeer!

She yelled at me an took up her broom,

An chased me twice around the front room,

Shoutin, That ole riverll be yore doom,

Think of yer son an yer daughteeeeeeeer!

So I said to her, O love dearie me,

I must follow the river right down tthe sea,

Tis the only way a beast can be free,

An I ran cos I couldnt have fought heeeeeeer!

She said tme, Now listen, you,

Me an the young uns are all comin too,

On board of a raft you need a good crew,

Itll make the journey seem shorteeeeeeeer! “

A large untidy raft hove into view round the bend, smoke curling from the chimney of a hut built at its center. A fat, jolly-looking hedgehog was leaning on the tiller; over his head, a line was strung between two poles set forard and aft, with gaily colored washing fluttering from it.

Bryony ran into the shallows, waving her paws. “Hello there, I mean, ahoy! Could you take two passengers?

The fat hedgehog grinned from ear to ear, revealing a wonderful set of even white teeth. “Ahoy yoreself, mousey, gangway while I brings er inshore!

He steered the raft into the shallows, almost grounding it, and asked, “Two, ysay, wheres tother one, missie?

“Yurr, SUIT, tho oim nought but a pore damaged mole-beast! Togget came ambling around the hillock, holding his head.

A small wiry female hedgehog came bustling out of the hut OB the raft, her skirt billowing over a welter of petticoats. “Corks n crivvens! she exclaimed. “Wot appened to yore nut, mole? Did yer fall on it?

Togget tenderly rubbed the poultice on his forehead. “Oid tell ee, maim, but oim far too ungered furr gossip.

Immediately the hogwife gave her husband a mighty shove. “Ducksndrakes! Dont stan there lookin ornamental, Dud-die Pollspike, git the pore mole an the mousemaid aboard an1 lets feed “em!

Duddle tugged his headspikes respectfully. “Wotever you say, Tutty, my liddle bankblossom!

The cabin hut was very chintzy, with brightly coloured tablecloth and curtains, thick, bright-dyed rush mats, and a large square stove on which various dishes bubbled and stewed. Bryony and Togget were seated at a semicircular window table and given beetroot-and-raspberry wine in small mugs to revive them. Tutty Pollspike busied herself at the stove, while her husband, Duddle, shooed their two young hoglets, Clematis Rosetea and Arundo, out of the way.

“Landing party, my darling ducklings, play ashore awhile until yore dear mama an my goodself get the vittles ready.

Bryony and Togget introduced themselves and told their story while Duddle and Tutty prepared the meal, Duddle tasted soup on a spoon tip, smacked his lips several times, and muttered, “Needs more fennel, splendid herb, always like it. Well, let me tell you, young uns, yore ferret has probly taken the river route if he has a grain of sense, its the only way ttravel. Easy on the paws, never goes uphill, an ycan take the home too.

Tutty placed fresh bread on the table, smacking Toggets paw away. “Crabsnclawlegs! Yore worsen my Duddle. You can travel with us for as long as you pleases, mayap youll find yore ferret. But ifn you touches any vittles afore the table is set, Ill chop off yore tails afore you can blink. Got that?

She fixed Togget with a warning stare as he nodded and said, “Got et, thankee, marm, youm be a cutten off ee tailers if usns be a touchen-afore vittles be ready. Ho urr!

The two hoglets were called in from play when the meal was ready. Duddle poled the raft from the bank and it drifted downriver, with the tiller lashed in position while they ate.

There was thick watercress-and-turnip soup; warm, brown wheat bread; a deep dish of cheese, mushroom, and leek bake; and a blackberry jam roly poly pudding with meadowcream. Afterward they sipped borage-and-rosehip tea. Duddle went out on deck to tend the tiller, while the friends were entertained by young Clematis Roselea, who recited a poem taught by her mama.

“I have learnt to wash my paws, An say sir an marm,

An dont act daft when on this raft,

Lest I do come to harm.

To sit up straight at table time,

An go to bed when told,

Mama says Im a precious hog,

In fact Im good as gold ... So there!

Young Arundo was about to flick an appleseed at her, when be caught his mamas stem eye, and he shrugged philosophically instead. “Thorry! I dont want my tail cut off with a thingle thwipe!

“Ahoy in the hut, molenmaid, all paws on deck an see this!

At the sound of Duddles voice from outside, Bryony and

Togget left the table and went to see what he had found. Tutty set her stern gaze on the hoglets, who had half risen from table. “Rhubarbnrosebuds! Did anybeast tell you two to move?

Arundo settled back glumly, making a chopping motion with his paw. “Thame old thtory, chop off our tailth!

The bodies of the two old foxes were caught up in the s branches of a half-submerged bush in a shallow cove beyond a curve.

Duddle pointed them out to the friends. “Dreadful end for anybeast, even two villains like them. How dyou figger it happened?

Togget nodded knowingly. “Oill bet an acorn to an apple twere maister Veil did et!

Bryony wagged a reproving paw at the mole. “Oh, Togget, bow could you say that? Veil wouldnt have killed them. Perhaps it was just some kind of nasty accident!

Togget turned away and trundled back to the hut, muttering, “Aye, an praps twill snow this evenin, et bein midsummer!

Sometime during the next night, when Veil lay sleeping on the willow trunk, a slipstream came up and flowed off on a slight slope. Not being awake to control the log. Veil slept on, unaware that the current had steered his craft off the main river. The willow trunk drifted silently into the slipstream, bearing the sleeping ferret away toward the distant mountains and fast-running rapids that led to a waterfall.

The same wet dawn that had sent Bryony and Togget scurrying for the pine copse broke over Salamandastron. Rain sheeted out in curtains over the still, waveless sea; hordebeasts huddled miserably among the rocky outcrops on the tideline, protecting smoky fires from guttering in the downpour. Swartt crouched with several of his Captains and Nightshade, their fire sheltered by an old tent canvas pegged to the side of the fock groyne. Those around the Warlord remained silent, not knowing which mood chose to possess their leader on such a cheerless day. Neither the ferret nor his vixen had spoken to anybeast of their latest plan.

Both watched the mountain, its top shrouded in mist. Though Swartt and his seer did not speak, both their minds were concentrated on the same thing. Was the Wraith inside the caves and passages of Salamandastron, stalking their Sunflash with his lethal stone blade?