They had been so preoccupied with bankmud and stings that neither of them had noticed the curious hedgehog's disappearance.
Samkim rubbed his back energetically against the rough bark of a hornbeam tree. "Ooh, that feels good. I expect old Spriggat's about somewhere. No need to worry over him he can take care of himself all right."
"Hohohoh! That I can, young feller m'lad. Here's yer tucker bags." Spriggat materialized out of the woods and tossed the two haversacks upon the bank. He was picking wasp wings from his teeth again. "I been back yonder 'mid the lupins and found these. Mmmtk! Found that broken wasp-nest too. I'm full as a stuffed duck. There's nothin' in all the woodlands like a good feed o'buzzers, no sir."
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Samkim and Arula checked their supplies. Most of the food was intact. They thanked him and sat down to share a small flask of October ale with their new-found friend.
Spriggat swigged at the flask, a slow smile spreading across his snout. "Hoho, this be prime stuff. Tober ale, ye call it. An 'og could get use to a drink like this, I tell ye! Oh, by the by, young uns, I picked up the tracks of that stoat with your swordnot too far from 'ere, travelin* south an' west. If you feels up to it we can start trackin' right away."
No further encouragement was needed. The two friends shouldered their haversacks and weapons. Spriggat was not a fast traveler; he was slow but exceedingly thorough.
"Not too long till dusk now. See 'ere? Swordpoint's been stuck in the groundusin' it as a walkin' stick, the rascal is. Look, this is a smear of blood from a wound on the bole of this elm."
Samkim watched the hedgehog carefully. He was a master of trail and woodcraft, and without him it would have been nigh on impossible to follow Dingeye's track. His wisdom and experience were proving invaluable in their search.
Spriggat noticed their wonderment and laughed good-naturedly. "Hohohoh. Never fret, I'll learn ye, young uns. 'Tis no disgrace to be shown a trick or two. I had t' learn the 'ard way...." He paused to pluck a dragonfly from mid-flight and gobble it up. "Hmm, that'n were a longways from his stream. Tasty though. Now what were I sayin'? Oh aye, yew tew watch an' take notice, an' soon you'll 'ave young 'eads on old shoulders."
"Doant'ee mean owd 'eads on young shoulders, zurr?" Arula corrected him.
"Hohohoh, so I do. You're a bright un, Arula. A quick learner, eh!"
In the depths of the woodlands, dusk overtook the trackers swiftly, the sunset in the west casting darkness between the haphazard columns of trees.
Spriggat held up a cautionary paw. "Camp yonder beneath that three-lopped oak. Mind now, no fire tonightwe be dan-
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gerous close to your enemy. I can smell somethin' I don't likes on th' breeze. Yew tew bide by the oak and get: nper ready. I won't be gone long."
Before they could reply he had melted into the undergrowth ahead of them. Samkim and Arula squatted beneath the sheltering boughs of the oak and set out a simple supper of oat cake and apple, uncorking a small flask of elderberry wine for their absent friend.
They had long eaten supper and were dozing on the soft moss at the base of the oak when a snap of wood caused them to come alert. Spriggat stood beside them with both halves of the dead twig in his paws.
' 'Hohohoh, a lesson learned is a lesson remembered, I 'opes. Never both go asleep together, always 'ave one on guard an' t'other sleepin'that way yew tew will never be sneaked up on, like I just did. What's this? Mmm, tastes good!"
Samkim refused the proffered flask, letting the hedgehog drink as much as he liked. "It's elderberry wine, Mr. Spriggat, made at Redwall Abbey. Keep the flask and drink it all. What did you find out there?"
Spriggat caught a droning gnat neatly with a flick of his head. He chewed it reflectively. "Gnats ain't nearly good as wasps 'n' beestoo acid-tastin'. Now, where were I ? Oh aye, what did I find? Well, I' II tell yew tew, that were a strange scent I caught on the breeze a while back. 'Twas death! Aye, death an' other things ... the whiff of ratscan't mistake that stenchfox, too, though I can't be certain o' that..."
Arula rocked back and forth impatiently. "Burrhoo, Mais-ter Spriggat, wot did 'ee find out'n thurr?"
"No sight fer yew tew t'be lookin' upon, young uns." Spriggat took a sip of wine and smacked his lips appreciatively. "It were the stoat, but his 'ead was chopped clear off! Most likely done wi' that sword you're a-seekin'."
Samkim was shocked that the sword of Martin the Warrior should have been put to such base use as murder. ' 'Nobeast could use Martin's blade so foully. It's dreadful! The sword of our Abbey Warrior was only ever lifted to defend the right
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and good in fair combat. How could anybeast treat it in such a wicked way?"
The old hedgehog shook his head at the young squirrel's innocence. "Ye've a lot to learn, laddie. There's no magic in any weapon. That sword may be used for good or evil; it all depends on the creature who wields it. Cmon now, sleep. We've got a full day ahead tomorrow. Rats 'n' foxes ain't as careless about their tracks as that pore silly stoat were."
That night Samkim's head was full of dreams. Martin the Warrior appeared, and there was the rolling hiss of great waters. Shadowy figures fought battles across the paths of his mind, great lumbering mist-shrouded creatures ... badgers! The voice of the Warrior echoed all around:
"Courage, Samkim, courage. Follow and find my sword, for destiny lies heavy upon you. Trust Spriggat, and take care of Arula. I am wim you, no matter how far you may roam. Do not lose heart. Remember the words of Spriggat: the sword may be used for good or evil by the creature who wields it..."
The dawn was shrouded in a curtain of drizzle, though the thick woodlands offered fair protection. After a hasty breakfast the three searchers set off, Spriggat leading them on a course that skirted the headless carcass of Dingeye. Still following a southwest trail, they pushed on until midmorning, when they halted in an open sward. The rain had ceased though the sky overhead was gray with rolling clouds.
Spriggat cast about. "Hohohoh, whoever is carryin' yon blade couldn't resist a chop at this wild mintI smelled it soon as we got 'ere. Look, see the cut stems? That sword is leavin' its own trail. It's as if it knows yew tew is follerin' it."
"Yurr et be a very swingable sword," Arula agreed. "Sharp, too, hurr."
Two rabbits popped up from the ferns at the edge of the sward and began chattering simultaneously.
"Stupid sword, stupid fox, stupid rats!"
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"Weren't chopping mint, y'know. Oh no, oh no!"
"Trying to chop us. By the burrow, they were!"
"Hope you haven't got any silly ideas about chopping rabbits?"
Their heads bobbed up and down as they spoke. They ran two paces back, turned and ran two paces forward all the time they were talking, alternately showing their white bobtails and scared faces.
Samkim shouldered his bow to show they meant no harm. He spread his paws wide and smiled openly. "Don't fear, friends. We're not the kind of creatures who go about chopping up rabbits. I'm Samkim of Redwall, this is Arula and he is Spriggat the wasp-eater. We won't harm you."
The two rabbits stopped hopping about and bared their teeth in what they hoped was a fearsome grimace.
"Harm us, hah! Don't you know I'm Fangslayer?"
"No you're not. I'm Fangslayer. You were Fangslayer yesterday. You can be Deatheye today."