Doomwyte

Shaking his head, Nokko passed the instrument to Gobbo, adding, “No, I never learnt to figgle, but Gobbo can. Hah, it’s the only thing he’s useful for. Cummon now, Gobbo, me ould son, play the figgle an’ sing for yer supper, as a thank-ye to the Abbo.”

Gobbo twanged the string once. Satisfied with the tone, he sang the quickest ditty that any Redwaller had ever heard.

“Wot’s in a name, a Gonfelin name,

would ye really like to know?

Now just you wait an’ I’ll tell ye, mate,

they all ends with o…oooooh, there’s

Robbo an’ Dobbo an’ Bumbo an’ Bobbo, an’

Gobbo of course, that’s me.

There’s Glibbo an’ Fibbo, an’ Nokko, too,

our great Pike’ead is he.

There’s Slumbo an’ Tumbo an’ Jimbo an’ Jumbo,

an’ Filgo, now that’s me ma,

so I’ve gotta mention Nokko agin,

’cos he’s me blinkin’ da.

We don’t end in a b you know,

all Gonf’lins end in oooooooooooooooh!”

Amidst the general laughter and applause, Skipper Rorgus called out to the Gonfelin leader, “Ahoy, mate, I don’t mind bein’ called Rorgo, in fact, ye can call me wot y’want, long as ye don’t call me late for vittles!”

Nokko responded cheerfully to the Otter Chieftain, “I agree with ye there, bucko, these Redwall Abbey vikkles are the finest anybeast could sit down to, ain’t never tasted scran so great. Wot do yer say, mates?”

Both the Gonfelins and the Guosim roared their approval, pounding the tables and raising their beakers. When the merry tumult died down, Tugga Bruster remarked loudly, “Huh it’s not so bad, I’ve tasted worse!”

There was a horrified silence, then Nokko roared, “Say that agin an’ I’ll knock yer inta the middle o’ next season!”

The Guosim Log a Log reached for his club. “Ye won’t knock me anywhere, cheeky ragamuffin. I’m free t’speak my mind if’n I so please!”

Nokko let his paw stray to his war hatchet. “Touch that club o’ yores an’ it’ll be the last thing ye do, sherrew!”

At a signal from the Abbot, Bosie was between the two, with drawn sword, whilst the Father Abbot of Redwall made a pronouncement. “Put aside those weapons, there will be no violence done within this Abbey!”

Nokko protested, “But did ye hear wot ’e said about yore good food, Abbo?”

The Abbot nodded. “Somebeasts have a habit of making contrary remarks. Log a Log Bruster is one of them. But that is no reason to draw weapons and fight. As our friend said, he is free to speak his mind.”

Sister Violet, the jolly hedgehog, came up with an acceptable solution to the dispute. “Then why not let both beasts speak their minds, Father, how about an insulting battle?”

Nokko quaffed off a beaker of October Ale, grinning as he wiped a paw across his mouth. “Us Gonfelins are good at that, I’m game!”

Tugga Bruster curled his lip scornfully. “I wouldn’t lower meself to bandy words with that scruffy object!”

Nokko thrust out his chin aggressively. “Ho, please try, sir. Ye bowlegged, snot-snouted, baggy-bottomed excuse fer a Chieftain!”

Lots of stifled chuckles were heard from the Guosim. Bruster had never been a popular Log a Log. Tugga trembled with rage. He was forced to reply, “You…you…fleabag, you thief!”

Nokko laughed lightly. “Thief? That’s a compliment where I comes from. Ye thick’eaded, spiky-bellied, waxy-eared paddle paw!”

His opponent seethed, struggling for words. “Yore worse than a Painted One, smelly toad!”

Now in his element, the Gonfelin Chieftain chuckled. “Bet ya wish yore mother hadn’t dropped yew on yer ’ead when ye were little. Is that wot made ye grow daft? Ye slobnoggled, piddlypawed, ould onion bum!”

There was a gasp of wholesale shock at Nokko’s language. Some parents covered their young ones’ ears. Tugga Bruster was lost for a reply. All he could do was to perform a stamping dance of rage.

Nokko roared with laughter. “Hohoho! Lookit the mighty Log a Log, he even dances like an ould frogwife. He must’ve practiced his dancin’ wid a broom, ’cos no maid could face such an ugly partner. Hahaha, mind ya don’t trip up o’er yer tail, ploppypaws!” The Gonfelin tribe and the Guosim shrieked with laughter, as Nokko began tapping his paws and singing.

“Ho one two, come t’the feast,

even yew, ye awkward beast,

bow to the maids, wot’s that ye say?

There ain’t one left they’ve run away!”

With the laughter of everybeast ringing in his ears, Tugga Bruster fled, defeated. The door slammed behind him as the ill-humoured Log a Log dashed off outdoors.

Spingo winked at Bisky. “Hah, that’ll teach ’im to mess wid my da, he’s a champeen insulter, y’know.”

Some of the Dibbuns thought the contest had been great fun; they started repeating Nokko’s insults at one another. “Hurr hurr, you’m a baggity-bottum, snotty ole snout!”

“Heehee, an’ yore a pigglypaw h’onion bum, so there!”