The Rogue Crew

Sergeant Miggory, who was nearby, on the left flank, had a word or two to say on the subject and let her know in no uncertain terms (as regimental colour sergeants invariably do). “Likes it, do ye, missy? Well, h’I am pleased for ye. Aye, h’an I’d like h’it, too, if’n ye could march properly. Wot h’is it about h’otters—’ave ye h’all got two left footpaws, h’an a tail wot keeps gettin’ h’in the way?”

Ferrul fluttered her eyelashes at Miggory. “Oh, I say, Sarge, don’t be too hard on Kite. She’s tryin’ jolly hard to keep step, ain’t ye, Kite?”

The tough sea ottermaid scowled. “I’m in perfect step.’Tis all the rest who aren’t!”

Miggory raised his eyes imploringly skyward and fell silent.

It was just past high noon when they reached the ancient three-topped oak, a massive woodland giant with a treble crown of foliage. They rested in its shade whilst Drogbuk questioned Pinny.

“Which way now, ole miz fussy apron?”

She treated him to a glare that would have wilted daisies. “Listen, you scrawny-peeled Wiltud. Anybeast that looks like you shouldn’t dare to try and make fun of others!”

Captain Rake interrupted. “Mah sentiments exactly, marm, but could ye ignore that auld misery an’ tell us the route tae the Abbey, please?”

The hogwife pointed south, across the stream. “Certainly, Captain. It’s that way. The next tall tree we come across, our Guosim Chief should be able to view Redwall’s belltower roof in the distance.”

Rake saluted. “Thankee, marm. Right, rest up awhile. Those who are thirsty can take a drink at the stream.”

Posy enquired, “Can we cool our footpaws in the water?”

Skor Axehound huffed. “Aye, miss, as long as ye do it downstream from where I’m drinkin’.”

Droghuk grumbled, “I’m too old an’ tired t’go further.”

Lieutenant Scutram, who knew that Drogbuk was only hoping for volunteers to carry him, answered, “Why, to be sure, old lad, if you’re too jolly tired to march with us, then you can flippin’ well stay here an’ catch up with us when you’re recovered an’ fit t’walk, wot!”

The ancient fraud groaned pitifully. “S’pose I’d better cool me footpaws in the stream if yore forcin’ a beast o’ my seasons t’march!”

Kite Slayer advanced on him, smiling maliciously. “Pore ole creature, d’ye think another good hard scrub would help ye? I’m willin’ t’do it!”

Drogbuk fled down the bank. “Yew keep away from me, ye young murderer!”

When they set off again, Captain Rake noticed Buff Redspore looking back over her shoulder, sometimes stopping and listening. Keeping his voice down, he walked alongside her. “Is anythin’ wrong, bonny miss?”

She shot a swift glance at the surrounding woodland. “Actually, I’m not sure, sah, but now an’ again I feel we’re being followed. Not too certain, though.”

Rake persisted. “How many d’ye think there is—one or a group?”

She shook her head. “No more’n one, sah, but whoever it jolly well is knows somethin’ about shadowin’.”

Rake nodded. “Ah’ll take the other side o’ the column an’ keep mah eyes’n’ears peeled.”

Noon shades were lengthening when Pinny Wiltud pointed out a very tall, slender ash tree, which towered over its neighbours.

“Now, if’n ye was to climb that un an’ look south, the top o’ the Abbey buildin’s can be seen clear from there.”

Log a Log Dandy spat on his paws, peering upward. “Looks like a fair ole climb t’me.”

Young Swiffo laughed. “You ain’t scared o’ heights, are ye? Bet I could climb t’the top quicker’n you.”

Dandy called back as he raced for the ash trunk, “Yore welcome to try, ye young pup!”

Swiffo bounded to the ash behind Dandy. As the Guosim Chieftain placed his paws on the trunk, the young sea otter bounded up his back, jumped on Dandy’s head and went away up the tree with a great turn of speed. Dandy was right after him, slightly behind but doing his best to catch up. Everybeast on the ground began cheering them onward.

“Hoho, go on, Chief, you can beat ’im!”

“Come on, Swiffo mate, don’t stop t’look back!”

“Try the other side o’ the trunk, Dandy—there’s more holds!”

“Stick at it, Swiffo, yore winnin’!”

As good as Dandy was, Swiffo had youth and fleetness of limb on his side. He vanished for a moment into the high, spreading foliage, then emerged on top of the tree. Leaning dangerously out, the young otter shouted, “Yore right, Pinny, I can see the belltower roof!”

On a slightly lower bough, Dandy clung to the trunk. “Aye, me too, an’ I can see the weather vane stickin’ up!” What happened next was not clear, but Dandy, who was looking down, suddenly yelled, “Look out, Swiffo, there he is—look out!”

Swiffo clutched his throat, gave a gurgling groan, then plunged headlong from his high perch. Dandy was scrambling down behind him, roaring, “It’s that fox, off t’the right! Grab ’im. Stop the fox!”

Buff Redspore spotted the shadowy form slinking off amidst the trees. She pointed. “There he goes!”

She raced off, with Ruggan Axehound at her side. Skor was bellowing like a stricken beast. “Yaaahaaarrr! My son, my liddle young son!”