The shrew leader looked up. "Calling my name?"
"Oh yes indeed." Pikkle nodded. "Shall I tell you what they're saying?" He threw back his head and shouted, "Log-alogalogalog!"
Immediately Log-a-log swung into action, his deep shrew voice roaring out orders:
"It's Guosssom shrews. They need help! You shrews in the other boat, follow us! Bend your backs, dig those paddles deep and pull! Logalogalogaiog!"
The two logboats raced across the waters, paddles flashing as bow waves churned up and the vessels rocked from side to side, Pikkle leaped down and grabbed up his paddle to match Mara's stroke.
A cheer went up from the crews of the three logboats as Sam-kim climbed down from the shoulders of Alfoh and Arula.
The young mole patted Samkim's back furiously. "You'm a roight gudd shouter, Sanken. They'm 'card 'ee, hurr hurr. Lookit, they acomen. Wot think 'ee, Alfoh, zurr?"
Alfoh shook Samkim heartily by the paw. "Best Guosssom call I've ever heard in me whole life. We'll make a boatshrew of you yet, young squirrel!"
There was a moment's pause as the five logboats met on the wide lakewaters. Log-a-log stood in the prow of his boat, displaying the Blackstone strung about his neck. All the five crews bowed low in acknowledgment of the Log-a-log of all the Guosssom, then happy shouting broke out. "It's Alfoh's colony from the hillbank!"
"Hey, Nordo, you young rip, how's your paddle!"
"Cousin Dwing, you fat old rascal, give me your paw!"
"Bowleyhi, Bowley, are you still poisonin' the lads with your cookin'?"
"Forbun, how are the twinsstill growing?"
"I'll say they are, Tubgutt, and they're the image of your sister: fat and idle. Hahahaha!"
Backslapping and paw-shaking went on apace as the shrews were reunited with old friends from the Great South Stream. Samkim was lost for words; he could only stand and stare at the handsomely marked young female badger holding the sword of Martin the Warrior in her paws. Stepping over the side of the boat, he never once took his eyes from hers as he spoke.
"I am Samkim of Redwall Abbey."
"I am Mara of Salamandastron."
They stood staring at one another until Samkim found himself speaking again. This time the words sprang unbidden to his lips. He felt as though he was back in Redwall, standing before the tapestry picture. Images golden with motes of the dust of time floated through his mind like brown leaves drifting over an autumn evening meadow . .. Thrugg the otter dressed as a badger guardian at the Nameday feast... the big empty chair in Great Hall where once sat Abbey badgers. . .
"The sword you are holding belongs to Redwall Abbey. It was once the sword of Martin the Warrior, and it was his face you saw in the blade."
Samkim shivered and placed a paw across his mouth, not knowing why he had spoken such words. He felt slightly foolish as he looked into the badger's dark brown eyes. Mara was mystified but she did not question the young squirrel. A sense of calm and quiet happiness stole over her as she placed the beautiful sword into his paws.
' 'May your sword travel safely back to its Abbey, Samkim of Redwall."
37
Three gnarled apples and half a beaker of water stood on the long dining hall table in Salamandastron. Urthstripe sat in his chair like some brooding mountain spirit, and around the table were thirty-two haresthe full complement of the Long Patrols. Urthstripe's gaze roved about his fighters, finally settling on Pennybright.
"Take these apples and this water, Penny. A sip and an apple apiece for you and the two next youngest in the mountain."
Pennybright was about to object when Bart Thistledown nudged her forward, murmuring under his breath, "Do as your Lord says, Pen. Go on, don't question him when he's in this moodhe's dangerous!"
The young hare did as she was bidden, bobbing a curtsy to the badger Lord as she passed him.
The hares waited in silence until Urthstripe stood. His gruff voice was heavy and doom-laden as he spoke.
"Sergeant Sapwood and Big Oxeye are gone. I could not make out what way they were slain, but there were over a hundred vermin against them. No two hares were with me longer, or served Salamandastron more loyally. First Wind-paw and Shorebuck, and now Sapwood and Oxeye. It has
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come to this, my friends." His paw crashed down on the tabletop. "We are starved and surrounded by a vermin horde, trapped inside our own fortress!"
The booming echoes of the badger Lord's voice died away as he glared down at the tabletop, the dark eyes becoming blood-flecked with rage. His paws clenched and unclenched, and a fleck of foam appeared at the side of his jaw as he pounded the table with each thunderous word.
"My mountain held under siege by a blue-eyed weasel and his brat!"
The chair behind him clattered onto its side as he swept out of the dining hall.
In the shocked hush that followed, Bart Thistledown set the chair upright and commented lightly, "Well, I'm glad I'm not a blue-eyed weasel, chaps. Yes indeed!"
Pennybright shared the water and apples with Lingfur and Barfle on the crater top. They gulped the water down but ate the apples sparingly, making each bite count, chewing hungrily.
Lingfur finished his apple first. "I'm still hungry, Pen. Phwaw! What I wouldn't give for a big beaker of mountain-pear cordial and a plate of hot oat scones with honey to spread thick on 'em!"
Barfle chewed away at the core and apple pips. "Greensap milk I'd like, with hot oatmeal and a whole blackcurrant pie, all to myself."
Penny closed her eyes longingly. "D'you remember those little cheese and onion pasties that Windpaw used to bake? I'd love to have one of those right now, with a flagon of new cold cider mat'd been cooling in the bottom caves for two days, all sparkly and light gold!"
"Oh, what did we start ta.lkin' about scoff for?" Lingfur nibbled the soft wooden stalk that his apple had hung from the tree on. "It only makes you even worse hungry than you are now!"
Suddenly a battered and sandswept figure hauled itself
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wearily over the crater top. It was none other than Big Oxeye, alive and well.
"Cheer up, young Ling. I never knew when you weren't bally well hungry, wot?" His familiar chuckle boomed out around the mountaintop. "Have some pears. They're a bit hard, but I don't suppose a young feedbag like you would care."
The three young hares gave a yell of horror at the ghastly apparition and fled down the crater steps as if a demon were chasing them.
Big Oxeye dropped the two woven reedbags he was carrying and looked down at his sand-crusted body. "Hmph! Suppose if I clapped eyes on me right now I'd be frightened out o' me wits!"
They gathered around the table in the dining hall as Oxeye related his marvelous escape.
"Hoho, you should've seen old Sap, floatin' off t' sea like he was born on the briny with not a care in the world. Next thing, here comes a bunch of those vermin yahoos, right nasty lot I can tell you. So I ups spear an' slays one or three, just t' let 'em know I mean business, doncha know. Blow me, there must've been more than a bally regiment of the stinkers. They stabbed an' whacked at me with cutlasses an' whatnot. As for me, did m' best to give a beastlike account of a Long Patrol scrapper, an' then I tripped and went under the water. D'you know, I could never swim until that moment, as true as I'm here, I tell you, chaps. I went under an' right off started swimmin' like a bloomin' fish underwater. Just kept goin', wot! On an' on I swam until I ran out of jolly old fresh air, so I came up an' there they were, far away, all arguin' an1 hackin' at each other like billyoh. So I took a good deep breath, dived an' swam some moremust've done that a dozen times until I got clear away from Ferahgo's lot. From there it was quite simple really, I just rolled meself in the dry sand to give me a coat of camouflage and hoofed it back here. Oh, I stopped off an' gathered a few supplies on the way backthought you chaps might be gettin' a bit peckish. I say,