Doomwyte

Abbot Glisam rapped the tabletop sharply. “We’ve heard quite enough of that language for one evening, thank you. The next beast I hear using dreadful insults will be scrubbing greasy pans for a day. Now let’s forget all bad feeling and enjoy supper like real Redwall friends. Here’s a toast to our new companions, the Guosim, the Gonfelins—oh, and our new permanent resident, Mister Aluco!”

The tawny owl bowed solemnly. “Thank you, Father Abbot, and all Redwall creatures. This is a most happy day for me, and I wish you to accept this with my heartfelt best wishes.” He hopped over to the Abbot’s table, and placed the round, green emerald on it. Nokko was heard to gasp, “Seasons of swipin’, will ye lookit that jool!”

Spingo whispered to him, “Easy now, Da. That belongs to Redwall Abbey, so keep yore eyes off it!”

Nokko patted her paw. “Shame on yer for thinkin’ such a thing, darlin’.”

Abbot Glisam held the shining green orb up, for all to see. “A most generous gift, friend Aluco, we will treasure it. Please accept our gratitude. Skipper, where do you suggest we keep such a treasure?”

The Otter Chieftain pondered for a moment. “I think ’twould look good in front o’ Martin the Warrior’s tapestry, Father. I’ll put it in an empty candleholder. The light from the lanterns’ll shine through the jewel nicely.”

Samolus held up a paw. “I second that, a wonderful idea, Skip. What do you think, Abbot?”

Glisam smiled. “So be it, a splendid choice!”

Outside, Tugga Bruster had his ear to the door, he had heard everything. A plan began to form in the embittered shrew’s mind.

25

Completely surrounded by the menacing band of crows, Dubble had the awful feeling that he would be slain in the next few moments. The young Guosim could see the stream, not far off. His only chance was to break through the cordon of fierce, black birds and make it into the water. With hungry, cruel eyes, the carrion closed in on him. Dubble did the only thing he could. Yelling the Guosim battlecry, he charged for the stream. “Logalogalogalooooog!”

It was a short-lived attempt. Dubble got no more than a few paces when he was brought down. A savage blow from one of the predators’ beaks hit him on the back of his neck. The young shrew collapsed with a roar of pain. In that same instant, several events took place in lightning-swift succession.

Yelling like a banshee, a huge black otter hurled herself upon the birds. “Eeeezaranaaaaaa!” The weapon she wielded was like a pair of sword blades, with a hilt at their centre. Whip! Slash! Two crows dropped, mortally wounded. Without pausing, the lithe, muscular beast threw Dubble over her shoulder, bulled through the carrion like a juggernaut and dived headlong into the deep, running middle of the stream.

Bleeding from the neck, and shocked by his sudden submersion in icy streamwater, Dubble tried valiantly to hold his breath. Dark weed fronds rushed by as the otter held her burden tight to her back with both paws. Somewhere above, Dubble glimpsed a gleam of tree-shaded sunlight. He clung grimly to his rescuer’s powerful shoulders. Caught in their vortex, an errant fish struck him in the face. Dubble began to panic, his lungs could not sustain the wild underwater journey. There was a ringing noise in his head, water began running up his nostrils and forcing a passage into his mouth. He struggled as everything went dark around him. Dubble felt an energetic upsurging lunge, it thrust him out of the water, onto a hard, smooth surface. Then the otter landed on top of him with a bump, water spouted from his nose and mouth as he spluttered weakly. Trying to rise, Dubble felt himself thrust flat by the otter, who was muttering.

“Get all water out, shrew be better then, lie still, still! No fret, you still alive, shrew.”

More water vomited forth, until Dubble retched and sucked in air greedily. They were under a sort of overhang, on a shelf, somewhere along the streambank. Sunlight seeping in made wavering patterns on the rock walls. The big, black otter nodded, satisfied. “You good now, what name ye have?”

The young Guosim held out his paw. “Dubble!” He gasped as the otter took his paw in a grip like a steel vise.

“Dubble, eh, funny name, I be Zaran the Black.” She retrieved her weapon, and began honing the blades on the wet rock, commenting with a wave of her sinewy rudder, “This be my holt, not much, but a finegood place to hide from Wytes, carrion scum and monster snake. You see him, Dubble?”

The young shrew nodded. “Oh I saw him sure enough. Wot a giant, he scared me just to look at him!”

Zaran finished sharpening her weapon. She thrust it in a sling, which hung across her back. “Snake not hurt me, I leave him well alone. Zaran slay Wytebirds, carrion, othersnakes, lizard, toad. Anybeast that come from caves of Skurr!” The white teeth of Zaran shone as she spat out the word “Skurr!”