Fazdim, a river rat, upended a flask of blackberry wine, gurgling gleefully as it splashed over his chin, staining his lean chest. "Be plenty more o' this good stuff when this place is ours, eh, Lord?"
Zwilt snatched the wine from him, throwing up a cautionary paw. "Hush! What was that?"
The rat Zwilt had left guarding the kitchen door, tip-pawed back to make his report. "Lord, it's somebeasts singin' an' dancin' out there!"
Zwilt tasted the blackberry wine, nodding his approval. "Let them sing and dance. What harm can that do? Fazdim,
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you take a turn guarding the door, but get me some of this wine first. I'll have to wait here until the coast is clear, then I'll go upstairs."
Though he would not admit it openly the tall sable was enjoying his first taste of Redwall fare. He wanted more.
Out in Great Hall, Trajidia had delivered the joyous news to the ladies. They began singing and dancing with happiness, knowing the babes were alive and safe. The transformation in Clarinna was remarkable. She joined in with the celebrations immediately. Friar Soogum and his kitchen helpers provided the music, singing lustily as they drummed on an assortment of upturned pots and bowls. A molemaid scraped away on a small fiddle as the dancers threw up their paws, laughing and jigging gleefully to the jolly song.
"Oh, whoopsy doo, one two three, happy jolly beasts are we, clap your paws, three four five, what a day to be alive!
"The sun never shone so warm and bright, my paws never felt so free and light, good news never was so comforting, whirl around, my friend, let's sing.
"Oh, deedle doo, and doodle die, no more tears from you or I, kick those paws up in the air, joy and bliss be everywhere!
"Our hearts are filled with joy and cheer, goodbye to anguish, grief and fear, whirl me round now, tralalaa, raise your voice and shout hurrah!"
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Vilaya stayed close to the north wall, making her way through the woodlands. She had removed the bloodstained rag from her brow, cleaned up her soil-stained face and donned her silken cloak. She was once again the Sable Quean.
The fight was going back and forth twixt the ramparts and the flatlands further down. Nobeast noticed as she crossed the path and slid into the ditch. She strode slowly and regally toward the useless battering ram. The Ravagers knew she was dead--had they not seen it with their own eyes? Zwilt the Shade had slain her with his broadsword. With Zwilt somewhere inside the Abbey and the vermin army being run by mere minions, it was high time for the resurrection of their real leader, the Sable Quean.
The recently appointed Captain Grakk was issuing orders to the ram bearers, who were taking cover beneath the bough and leaf canopy in the ditchbed. Using his spearhaft none too gently, Grakk routed the vermin out.
"Leave this ram, now. Git yoreselves outta there! Boss Fallug needs all of ye to attack the walltop. Move, ye worthless bunch, come on, shift yoreselves! Hah, fancy droppin' a batterin' ram into a ditch after all the 'ard work
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we put in makin' it, eh? Leave it there. Boss Fallug says he's got plans fer it once it goes dark!"
The Ravagers were starting to scramble from the ditch when one, a stoat, fell backward. His paw was pointing, and his face a mask of fear as he wailed, "Waaaaaahhhhh! Eeeeeeyaaaah!"
Everybeast turned to see what had caused this weird effect on the stoat. Eyes popped wide, jaws dropped, the vermin and their captain stood transfixed by the apparition. Vilaya walked unhurriedly up until she was facing the Weasel Captain, whom she addressed by name.
"Are you in charge now, Grakk?"
The weasel was trembling uncontrollably as he managed a stumbling reply. "Ch-charge, y'Majesty er, er, no, I'm only a cap'n, marm. Er, er, it's Fallug's in charge, er, Lord Zwilt made 'im a boss, er, Majesty!"
Vilaya repeated the name. "Fallug. I don't know that one. Take me to him, Grakk. Bring these Ravagers with you."
Fallug was revelling in his newfound authority, which had many benefits. Some of his foragers had brought in a large clutch of partridge eggs, of which he would take the largest share. He sat watching them roast the eggs in hot ashes, well out of range from Redwall missiles. Fallug was retrieving the first of the cooked eggs with a twig when a ferret pointed out what was going on.
"Lookit, Boss, they've left off fightin' an' they're all comin' over 'ere.... An' the Quean's with 'em!"
Fallug shaded his eyes, staring hard at the lead figure. There was no doubt about it--the Sable Quean was unmistakable. Murmurs ran through the foraging party.
"But I thought Zwilt killed 'er!"
"Aye, 'e did. I saw Zwilt do it meself, mate!"
"Then why's she 'ere? Why ain't she dead?"
"Maybe ... maybe she's a ghost, come back to slay us all!"
They began edging back, ready to break and run off.
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Fallug was not about to relinquish his new high office, nor was he about to show fear in front of his command. "Git back 'ere, ye ole frogwives, she ain't goin' to slay nobeast. Lord Zwilt'll sort this out when he gits back. Meanwhile, I'm the boss o' this army, an' I ain't afeared o' nobeast, livin' or dead!"
When Vilaya arrived at the smouldering fire, all the Ravagers stood to attention. All except Fallug, who was still crouched over the ashes, pulling roasted eggs clear with his twig.
Vilaya looked down at him. Her voice held the ring of authority as she spoke. "Are you the beast they call Fallug?"
Dropping the twig, Fallug drew his dagger, making a show of cracking a partridge egg with the blade. He replied boldly, "Aye, I'm Boss Fallug, an' I'm in charge around 'ere until Lord Zwilt gits back!"
The onlookers to this confrontation were surprised when Vilaya smiled approvingly. Her tone was almost cheerful. "Well said, Boss Fallug. That's the way it should be! But the Sable Quean has always ruled over all Ravagers, so I'll take charge now. You won't be needed anymore." Reaching down, she patted the back of his neck.
Oakheart Witherspyk had mounted the battlements once more, trying to assess the new situation, which was puzzling them all.
"D'ye think somethin's going on out there, Skipper?"
The otter leaned on the walltop. "Aye, mate, I do, an' I just wish I knew exactly wot it was."
Buckler climbed up alongside Oakheart. "They've all gathered round that campfire over yonder, too far t'see what's goin' on."
Axtel drew the war hammer from his belt. "You'm wanten oi to goo an' take ee lukk, zurr? Et woan't bee no trubble to oi."
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Diggs interposed hastily. "No need for that, old lad. Rest that jolly old footpaw of yours, wot. Besides, who are we to argue if the bloomin' wretched vermin want to chuck in fightin' for the day? Maybe they've decided to take afternoon tea. Jolly good idea, don't y'think, eh, Buck?"
Jango shook his head at the gluttonous young hare. "Don't ye think of anythin' aside o' vittles? We've not long eaten lunch!"
Diggs gave his ears a cavalier wiggle as he set off down the wallsteps. "Pish tush, sah. That's alright for you t'say-- shrews don't need as much bally nourishment as hares do. I'll just toodle off down t'the jolly old kitchens an' see what the Friar is fryin' up, wot! Oh, I say, that was rather a good un, the Friar fryin' up stuff, wot?"
Glancing back, he saw his pun had not been appreciated. With that, he strode off, chunnering. "No sense o' humour. That's the trouble with you mouldy lot. Thought it was pretty funny m'self, Friar fryin' an' all that. My old aunt Twodge was right, where there's no sense, there's no bloomin' feelin'. Huh, she was right!"
Flib climbed up alongside Buckler. She nodded toward the Ravager army. "They might've stopped fightin', but that don't mean the dirty scum ain't hatchin' summat up. Take my word, mate, we'd do well t'keep an eye on that lousy lot!"