The ferret threw himself flat on the walkway, sobbing hysterically. "I keeps tellin' ye, I don't know nothin'. All I does is carries out Zwilt's orders. I ain't got a clue where Althier is, on me oath I ain't!"
Oakheart bounded forward. Heaving the vermin up
149
right, he shook him like a rag, bellowing into his face, "Althier, what d'ye mean, Althier?"
Gripchun rattled on like a babbling brook. "I 'eard Zwilt sayin' it, an' I didn't think nothin' of it at the time, honest I didn't, sirs. But just now the name came into me mind. Althier, I think that's the name of the place where they keeps yore little uns!"
Oakheart dropped the hapless vermin. "Well, well. What d'ye make o' that, friends?"
Granvy ceased writing. He whispered to Skipper, "I believe him, but let's not frighten him into telling lies to save his skin. Leave this to me. Maybe I can persuade a bit more out of him."
Diggs gave the Recorder a broad wink. "Aye, but first allow me to jolly well scare the blighter a bit more. Then you can come in, all blinkin' kind'n'gentie, eh, wot!"
Diggs dived at the ferret, hauling him up once again and bellowing aggressively, "So then, you mouldy rotter, you were fibbing when y'said you'd told me every bloomin' thing. Hah, an' I was tryin' to be nice to you. Right, that's it! No more good old Uncle Diggs for you, m'laddo, c'mere!"
Even though he was tubby, Diggs was a hare of some strength. With a grunt, he swung Gripchun over his head and held him above the battlements.
"One thing a chap can't abide, an' that's a fibber! So it's over the wall for you, mudface. You're free t'go--though it's a bit of a way down from the top o' these flippin' walls. Hah, your pals will prob'ly need three sacks an' a spade to shovel you up an' carry you off, wot!"
The vermin screeched despairingly, "No, noooo, mercy, sir, I begs ye! Owoooo 'elp!"
That was when Granvy interceded. He pulled Diggs back, managing to take possession of the prisoner. "Mister Diggs, sir, there's no need for all this violence. I'm sure this creature would sooner talk to me, right?"
150
The ferret began kissing Granvy's footpaws. "Right, sir, yore right. I'll talk to ye, fair'n'square, honest I will, sir. Just keep that fat rabbet off me!"
Diggs was about to fetch him a good clout for his insolence when the old Recorder held up a calming paw.
"Please, friends, go away. Let me take charge of this beast."
Buckler nodded. "He's right, mates. Let's go and take tea in the gatehouse. Just shout if y'need us, Granvy."
The Recorder smiled meekly. "Thank you so much."
They went off down the wallsteps, with Diggs chunnering indignantly "Bloomin' nerve o' the blighter. Fat rabbet is it, wot? One more word out of that scoundrel an' I'll fat rabbet him. Squashed ferret, that's what he'll jolly well be. I say, you chaps, if we're havin' tea, I'll just nip off t'the blinkin' kitchens an' see if I can't conjure up a few scones, or a spot o' piecrust!"
151
13
It was a terrifying moment for the young prisoners in the gloomy cave, and it happened swiftly. One moment they were lying about listlessly, wondering how long it was until their next meal, some dozing, others just gazing blankly into space. Then the door to the dungeon slammed open. Thwip, Binta and Dirva swept in with an escort of guards, all carrying lighted torches.
There was an immediate hubbub, with the little captives shielding their eyes against the sudden invasion of flaring lights. Dirva pointed to the closest three creatures. "They'll do--take 'em!"
Flandor the young otter grabbed a stoat who was shoving the Dibbun squirrelmaid, Tassy, into a big sack. "Leave her alone, you dirty villain!" He dealt the stoat a good punch to the right eye.
That was where the resistance ended. Flandor was set upon by guards and beaten senseless with spearbutts. Thwip was cracking his lash, snarling, "Get back! Back, I say all of ye!"
Screams and cries of young creatures echoed round the dungeon walls as the raiders speedily retreated with their victims. As quickly as it had started, the incident was over. The door slammed and was bolted tight, leaving the
152
prisoners blinking in the sudden darkness. Everybeast was wailing and sobbing at the sudden violence of the raid.
Flib came tumbling out of the escape tunnel, followed by her two small mole assistants. The Guosim shrewmaid spat dust, wiping the back of a grimy paw across her eyes. "Wot'n the name o' bludd'n'boulders is goin' on?"
Midda grasped her sister Flib's paw. "They took three of us, jus' barged in an' took 'em!"
Flib wiggled a paw in a dust-filled ear, shouting, "Will ya shut that noise, all of youse! I can't 'ear meself thinkin' for all the weepin' an' wailin'. Now, shut up, d'ye hear me? Be quiet!"
The din subsided into faint moans and sniffles.
The young squirrel, Tura, spoke out. "I think they've killed Flandor--look!"
Flib ran to the fallen otter's side and turned him over. He groaned softly. Midda managed to unhook one of the dim lanterns from the prison wall. She held it over Flandor as Flib inspected him.
"Flandor ain't dead. Anybeast got a drop o' water t'spare?"
A small quantity of the precious fluid was donated. Midda tore off a strip of her kilt, soaking it and bathing away blood from a cut on the otter's brow. She forced the remainder of the water between Flandor's lips. He spluttered, trying to sit up, but Flib pressed him back down.
"Stay put awhile 'til yer feel stronger, mate. Now, who was it did all this?"
Tura answered, "The two foxes an' that ole scrinjy rat. They burst in with a load of guards carryin' torches an' weapons. Shoved three little uns into sacks an' took 'em away. Wasn't much we could do, it all happened so sudden. Y'can see wot they did to pore Flandor, beat him terrible, they did!"
Flib nodded grimly. "So, who did the cowardly scum take?"
Midda replied, "One was the Redwall squirrel, Tassy."
153
Jiddle the Witherspyk hog sobbed, "They stole my sister Jinty put her in a sack!"
Flib patted his head gently "There, there. No good cryin', mate, at least they never took you. Who else?"
Gurchen the molemaid had been taking a look around. "Burr, oi think they'm tukken ee likkle hurr babbie, ee wun called Urfa. She'm gone frum 'er bruther."
A mousebabe began wailing, "Wahaaah, they're goin' to eat them, we'll be next. Wahaaaah!"
Flib tugged the mouse's tail, silencing him. "Don't talk stoopid. If'n they was goin' to eat us they woulda done it long ago, while we was all still fat an' 'ealthy "
Midda picked up Borti, who had been wakened by the mousebabe's cries. She rocked him to and fro. "Then what d'you suppose they plan on doin' to 'em?"
Flib raised her voice bad-temperedly. "Well 'ow am I s'posed to know, eh? They took 'em, an' that's all there is to it, see? We'd better be ready to fight 'em off if'n they comes back t'take more of us."
Tura shrugged. "An' how are we supposed to do that?"
Her enquiry seemed to throw Flib into a greater rage. She waved her paws about wildly. "Look, I ain't in charge 'ere. Can't yer think for yoreselves, instead o' sittin' there scrinjin' an' moanin'? At least I'm doin' somethin'--I'm tryin' to dig a tunnel out of 'ere. In fact, that's wot I think I'll do now, carry on diggin'. Cummon, youse two!"
A moment later, she and her two mole helpers had vanished into the tunnel, leaving the rest to their own devices.
Tura took up the wet rag and began wiping Flandor's wound, her jaw set tightly. "Huh, not much good askin' yore sister for help, is it?"
Midda saw that Borti had gone back to sleep. She placed him carefully down on a bed of old dried grass. "That's not very fair, Tura. Flib's doing her best to dig that tunnel so we can all escape. I know she can get a bit moody at times, but she's always been that way. Take my word for
154
it, Flib has a good heart. She'll help us in her own way, you'll see."
Flandor sat upright, nursing his head. "Aye, Tura, she's right--hush, did ye hear that? Somebeast's unlockin' the door. Get them all back against the walls. Be ready to fight this time!"