Tragglo menaced the gluttonous hare with his honey spoon. "Them's for breakfast, mister Florian. You put a paw near our scones an' I'll raise a lump on it wi' this 'ere spoon!"
Florian managed a look of outraged innocence. "Steady on, old lad, I'm no blinkin' scone-robber. I merely popped in, so t'speak, to see if you needed any assistance. No need to accuse a chap of felonious intentions on your scones!"
Friar Butty continued his work, keeping one eye upon the hare. "Well, we don't need any assistance, so t'speak, thank you. I thought you were supposed to be up on the walltops defending us from vermin attack. What are you doing down here?"
Florian continued to sniff the aroma of fresh-baked scones, striding up and down the kitchens with an air of exaggerated boredom, getting closer to the cooling trays all the time. "Doin' down here, me? Oh, this'n'that, y'know. Gets rather tedious standin' on a flippin' walltop all night, watchin' those vermin types choppin' away at a tree. Jolly borin', wot!"
Butty looked up from his work. "Which tree? What's going on up there?"
Florian pulled a wry face at the stout Tragglo, who had placed himself in front of the scones. "Over by the north wall, great old three-topped oak, half dead but amazin'ly thick. Those bally villains are hackin' away at it with axes. They want to fell it so that it'll fall against the wall an' provide a road into the Abbey for them. Fiddley dee! It'll take 'em all season t'chop that monster down. I say, what're you chaps smilin' at? Nothin' to be happy about, really. If that tree falls you'll have a mob o' vermin in here pinchin' your breakfast scones, wot!"
Tragglo put down his honey jar and spoon. "Big half-dead ole three-topped oak at the north wall, d'ye say?"
"Rather, great blinkin' hunk of a thing. Must be nigh on a squillion seasons old!"
Friar Butty relinquished the crystallized fruit. Still smiling broadly, he wiped both paws on his apron. "Tell me, how long have they been chopping at the old oak?"
"Oh, not too long really. Couldn't say for sure. Why?"
Tragglo was making for the door, a huge grin on his face. "Come on, Butty, we got to see this!" The old Recorder followed him eagerly.
Florian pursued them, snatching two scones from a tray. "Wait f'me, chaps. Ooh, ooh, these scones are scorchin' hot, wot!"
Janglur Swifteye paced the ramparts, arrow on bowstring, quivering with frustration. "Can't see the scum to get a clear shot, Rus!"
Rusvul Reguba sat down, covering his ears with both paws. "Chop chop chop. The sound o' those confounded axes is drivin' me mad, matey!"
Butty, Tragglo and Florian climbed the north wallsteps, with Cregga, Foremole Gubbio and his mixed crew of moles and Noonvalers following behind. Tragglo peeped over the battlements and laughed aloud. "Hohoho! Any moment now they be in for a real surprise!"
Janglur looked at the Cellarhog strangely. "I don't see nothin' funny in all this, mate. Neither'll you if that oak falls atop the wall!"
Cregga placed a placating paw on the angry squirrel. "I'm sorry, friend. Let me explain. That old tree is rotted right through its middle due to big stinging termites. If it weren't night you could see the hive too, in the fork where the three tops meet. The largest honeybee hive in all Mossflower rests in yonder oak, but we've never been able to get at the honey because of the bees and termites. The bees guard their hive and the termites guard the tree. As soon as the vermin strike soft wood they're in big trouble!"
Foremole Gubbio shook his head. "They'm bumbly-bees and turmiters be a-takin' ee arter solstice nap. Hurr, woe to 'e who wakes 'em up, zurr, burr aye!"
Borrakul peeped over the walltop, his curiosity aroused by the news. "When can we expect somethin' t'happen, marm?"
Cregga felt about until she found somewhere comfortable to sit. "As soon as the axes stop that hard chopping noise and hit the soft rotted wood."
As Vannan watched two new axbeasts take the place of two weary ones, Raventail scoffed, "Kye arr, we be oldbeasts by time bigtree fall!"
The Marlfox ignored the gibe, listening to the steady ring of axblades against oakwood.
Chop! Chop! Chop!
One of the water rats wielding an ax stopped suddenly, wincing as he rubbed furiously at his cheek. Vannan glared at him irately. "What have you stopped for?"
"Something stung me, marm!"
"Idiot! Get back to work or my ax will sting your neck!"
Chop! Chop! Chop! Thunk! Whumph!
The Marlfox's pale eyes shone triumphantly. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Swing those axes harder!"
As she spoke, Vannan drew in her breath sharply. Raising her left footpaw, she flattened the big termite that was biting her. At the same instant her right footpaw was attacked by several more of the angry insects. In no time at all, Vannan was hopping from one paw to the other, swiping at termites.
Raventail stepped back, laughing. "Kyaahahaharr! Bigmagic fox dancin' lokka lokka!"
Both water rats had ceased chopping and were ' slapping their bodies all over, maddened by the fiery stabs of pain. An ominous buzzing filled the air. Raventail was still laughing as a swarm of bees descended on his head, where they went to work with a vengeance. Now the very air hummed and the ground was alive. Insects flooded from the three-topped oak, biting and stinging anything they encountered. The moment they felt the first stings, Ascrod and Predak fled the scene, leaving Raventail, Vannan and the waiting crowd of barbarians and water rats to their tormentors. The would-be invaders screamed and roared, some throwing themselves flat on the ground, unwittingly escaping the bees only to writhe amid the termites. Others tried to scale trees, driven almost crazy with agony as bees swarmed all over them. Those who fled were pursued by the bees, and they ran as if they were dancing some insane jig, slapping at the termites that clung doggedly on. Bushes were trampled, low-hanging branches snapped, and the night air rang with screeches and yells.
Tragglo Spearback began herding everybeast down from the wall, cautioning as they went. "Go easy now. Don't 'urry, move slow an' stay calm. Those bees ain't flown up this 'igh yet, but they soon will."
Dawn arrived in pale rosewashed sky, scattered with small cream-hued clouds. Cregga Badgermum stood in the Abbey doorway with Ellayo, listening to the massed chorus of birdsong resounding in the woodlands. Ellayo looked over toward the north wall. "Birdies sound happy an' joyous this mornin', Cregga."
"Aye, so they do. I hear thrushes, blackbirds, finches and robins tooall manner of our feathered friends. Do you know what they're doing, Ellayo?"
"Oh, yes. They're thankin' the vermin for givin' 'em such a fine breakfast of bees an' termites. Kind of the foebeasts, wasn't it?"
"Indeed it was, though I don't think they'll be bothered about birdsong right now. Mud poultices and dock-leaves will be more their concern this fine morning."
"Let that be a lesson t'the rogues, I say. None of ours were stung, were they, Cregga?"
"Only one. That was Florian, who had a smear of honey on the tip of his nose. That'll teach him to steal scones!"
"Hush. Here he comes now."
The hare looked a comical sight with his nose swathed in a poultice of dockleaf, motherwort and pond mud. He strode toward the pond in search of fresh mud, pursued by several Dibbuns and Tragglo, who had made up a little ditty about the incident, which he sang with evident gusto.
"Ho there am I, a liddle bee,
A-livin' in my ole oak tree,
When some bad varmint wid an ax,