The fiendish Dwopple and his cohort, the molebabe Wugger, emerged from behind the hedge. Both Dibbuns were practically unrecognizable. Daubed from ears to tail with gray kitchen ash and flecked with black spots of charcoal, they wore gray blankets, purloined from the dormitory, as cloaks. Stumbling on the blanket hems, they leapt toward the cheese.
Tragglo struggled to keep a straight face. "An' who might you turrible beasts be?"
Dwopple turned his most fearsome scowl upon the big hedgehog. "Us be's Marmfloxes, an' y'can't see us, 'cos we be unvizzible!"
Tragglo caught on to the game right away. He looked strangely at Runktipp, who had also guessed what was going on. "Did you say somethin', mate?"
Runktipp shook his spiky head vigorously. "I never said a word. I thought 'twas you, mate?"
Dwopple sniggered gleefully as he and Wugger grabbed the cheese. "It workin', toT yer they cuddent see us, heehee!"
Wugger broke the cheese in two, giving half to his partner in crime. "Hurr, vurry gudd. Us'n's best varnish naow, loike ee Marmfloxes!"
The heavy digging claws of Gurrbowl Cellarmole descended on them. "You'm bain't a-varnishin' nowheres, rogues. Oi see ee gudd enuff t'know you'm be in gurt need o' a barth an' sound scrubbin'!"
Both "Marmfloxes" were hauled off kicking and squealing by the dutiful molewife.
Added to the scent of the orchard, an aroma of wonderful food created an intoxicating atmosphere. Janglur, Skipper and Rusvul had been temporarily relieved by three good Guosim, and were sitting together with Rimrose and Ellayo. All around them the buzz and chatter of happy creatures added to the festive spirit. Even the vari-hued butterflies and bumblebees that hovered about the orchard seemed part of the enchanted afternoon.
Cregga Badgermum created an instant hush when she stood to speak. "Friends, Redwallers, good creatures all, before we carry on to enjoy this sunny day, let me say a few words in the absence of either Abbot or Abbess. First, let us hope that the Marlfox threat has gone from Mossflower country. Brave creatures lost their lives in defense of our Abbey, and we must remember them always in our minds and hearts. But also we must resolve never to yield to evil, whether it be Marlfox or any other vermin attempting to destroy the peaceful life of Redwall. Next, I feel we should give due thanks to our warriors. Janglur Swifteye, Rusvul Reguba, Bargle Guosim, Skipper of otters, Borrakul and all of you who defended the Abbey, our thanks to you brave ones!"
There was a mass murmur of agreement, which broke out into hearty applause. Cregga waited before continuing.
"Also we must live in hopes for the safety of Janglur's daughter Song, Rusvul's son Dannflor and the young Guosim Dippler. These, we now know, have gone to get back the tapestry, which is the very heart of Redwall. Fate and fortunes keep them well and aid them on their quest. Now, before we begin, is there anything that you wish to ask me, friends?"
Tragglo Spearback's voice rang out strong and clear. "Aye, marm, I want to know why you ain't our Abbess. Everybeast wishes you were!"
Roars of approval and loud cheers echoed everywhere. Skipper was forced to whack the table with his rudder to get order. "Ahoy, give marm a chance, will ye? Thanks, marm, the floor's yours."
Cregga nodded gratefully in the otter Chieftain's direction. "Well done, Skip! Redwallers, I once had command when I ruled Salamandastron, the great fortress by the sea. Now I wish to live out my seasons in peace. I can help and advise, but I will not rule, on that my word is final. So, if there are no more questions, we will start the feast!"
Bargle held up a paw, grinning mischievously. "Beg pardon, marm, but could you tell us why mister Florian ain't sittin' down like the rest of us?"
Cregga's blind eyes turned in the shrew's direction. "Isn't he? I hadn't noticed. Mayhap mister Florian can throw some light upon the mystery. Sir?"
Amid gales of laughter from all who knew what had happened, Florian glared daggers at the cheeky shrew. "Flippin' spiky-mopped waterbeetle, mind your own business, wot! Chap has the right t'stand or sit as he jolly well pleases, without your bottle-nosed inquiries, flamin' fatbellied boat-bobber! Shove some salad down that great gob of yours an' give it a flippin' rest!"
"I was just about to do that, sir," Bargle shouted cheerfully back, "but I can't find the salad fork noplace. But we all trust you, mister Florian. You will find it!"
Adding insult to injury, Mayon roared out, "Aye, you'll get t'the bottom of things, won't ye, sir!"
The outraged hare loaded two plates high with food and marched off, balancing a flagon of October Ale between the platters. "A frog's feather for you lot. I'll go an' dine elsewhere. I'm not standin' here t'be insulted!"
"Then sit down if y'dare!"
Redwallers held their aching ribs, sobbing with laughter, as much at Bargle's parting shot as at the sight of Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop, strutting off with a heavily bandaged rear end.
Chapter 23
Late night turned extremely cloudy, leaving the four travelers paddling in complete blackness for long periods when the moon became hidden by heavy cloudbanks. The stream had grown much deeper wider, tooand they could no longer feel the odd touch of paddle against streambed. Dann caught the first overhanging branches that he could reach and hauled them in to the bank. "That's enough for one night, pals. The stream may get pretty treacherous in the dark. Let's make camp."
Pulling the Swallow up onto dry ground, they sat on a partially mossed rock shelf. Song peered about her, but could not make out much in the thick tree groves surrounding them. "What d'you think, Dann? Shall we chance a fire?"
The young squirrel was busy digging food out of their packs. "Hmm, I don't see why not, eh, Burb?"
"Ah yiss yiss, a bit of an ould blaze always cheers things up, an' we might see where we've landed. Yiss!"
Dippler went off to look for fuel, and was soon back, staggering under a load of wood. "Found a stricken pine tree back there. Good dry stuff 'tis."
Dann struck flint against his swordblade onto some dry moss, and soon they had a bright crackling little fire. Supper consisted of a few scones, some almonds and raisins and a brew of Goody Brimm's mint and burnet rose hip tea. Only the immediate area of their camp was lit up; beyond that the woodland looked thick, dark and impenetrable.
Without warning a rock whistled out of the night and struck Burble a thudding blow between his shoulders. Dann and Song acted swiftly, dragging the watervole into the shadows, while Dippler scattered the fire into the stream with the flat of his paddle blade. A mocking voice called out of the woodland to them. "Yah, y'ain't got yer big 'edge'og wid yer now. We're comin' t'get yez, me liddle buckoes!"
They recognized the voice immediately. It was the stoat whom Soil had chased off, and they had no doubt that his two weasel allies were still with him. He called out again. "No use tryin' to 'ide from us, young 'uns, we'll get yer. Stand where y'are an' drop yer weapons. If ye do we'll make it quick. But move a muscle an' yore dyin'll be long'n'slow!"
Dann blinked his eyes hard, rubbing a paw into them to dispel the effects of the firelight. Song was already on the move. She launched the Swallow back into the stream, and then she and Dippler helped Burble into the boat. He appeared to be in considerable pain. Song pushed the craft clear of the bank.
"Burb, are you all right?"
"Yiss yiss, I'm fine, missie. Cummon, we'd best git goin'!"
But the pretty squirrelmaid had other ideas. "Listen to me, Burb. Grab that branch hangin' down yonder. Hold the Swallow offshore an' wait for us. But if anybeast tries to get you or the boat, let go of the branch and drift off. We'll catch up with you downstream, all being well."
Song and Dippler crawled back to where Dann hid in the shadows. The stoat was still calling. "Naughty naughty now, ye've moved. We'll 'ave ter punish yer fer that, me liddle friends!"