Sawney laughed. "Haha, you're a cool one, Tagg!"
The otter shrugged. "No point getting excited over some mangy old runaway fox. Cut him down and let him go, I say. Make him clean up the camp on all fours for a season, starve him a bit to slow him down. That's what I'd do."
Sawney winced and rubbed his stomach with a paw. "But you're not me, are you? I'm the one who gives the orders and makes the decisions in this clan. Right?"
Tagg tried keeping the mood light. He nodded. "Right!"
To his surprise, Sawney grinned and hugged him fondly. "Zann Juskarath Taggerung! My strong right paw. No, I won't skin Felch alive. Remember when we last spoke, just before you took your nap this afternoon?"
Tagg disengaged himself from the ferret's hug. "Aye."
Sawney tossed his blade up and caught it neatly. "You do, good! Because I recall exactly what you said to me. You promised that you'd obey me next time I gave you an order."
Tagg was forced to agree. "That's what I said right enough."
Quick as a flash, Sawney Rath's eyes hardened. "Then I'm ordering you to skin Felch alive!" He took the otter's paw, closing it over the knife handle. "Obey me!"
The crowded clearing became as silent as a tomb. All eyes were upon the Taggerung, awaiting his reaction to the order.
Tagg turned his back on Sawney and strode to the side of the fox strung up to the beech bough. He raised the blade. Felch shut his eyes tight, his head shaking back and forth as his nerves quivered uncontrollably. With a sudden slash Tagg severed the thongs that bound him. Felch slumped to the ground in a shaking heap. Tagg's voice was flat and hard as he turned to face Sawney.
"I'm sorry to disobey your order. The fox is a sorry thief, but I will not take the life of a helpless beast."
Sawney's paw shot to his belt, forgetting that Tagg was holding his blade. Spittle sprayed from the ferret's mouth as he roared, "You'll do as I say! Don't try to give me excuses! Carry out my command! Do it! Do it now!"
Tagg sliced through the bonds that still held the fox's paws together. He spoke only one word. "No!"
Sawney was beside himself with fury. His voice rose to a scream. "Your promise was a lie! Do it, or I'll make you obey me!"
Tagg ignored him. He lifted Felch upright and rubbed life back into his numbed paws, whispering, "You may as well run for it again, wretched creature."
Felch dashed off into the trees. Sawney rapped out an order to the ferret, Vallug Bowbeast. "Kill him!"
Felch was still visible as he dodged between the trunks. Vallug ran forward a few steps. Keeping the fox in sight, he notched an arrow onto his bowstring and drew the weapon back. Tagg leaped in, a single swipe of his blade parting the string. Vallug saw the look in his eyes and backed off.
Sawney's face screwed up in pain as shafts of agony ran like lightning bolts through his stomach. He waved Grissoul away as the Seer ran to help him. Glowering at Tagg, he pointed an accusing paw.
"Traitor! You are not a true Taggerung to the Juskarath. I made a bad mistake when I took you in and called you my son!"
Tagg gave vent to his feelings. "Look around you, Sawney. Rats, stoats, ferrets, weasels and foxes. I'm the only otter in the whole clan. How can a ferret be father to me? I've never called you father, but I respected you as Chieftain until now. Did you think I am the sort of beast to skin a living creature alive? Well, the fox has run and I won't be the one to bring him back. You can't make me obey what your temper dictates. That isn't true Juska law!"
Sawney curled his lip in contempt. "What do you know of Juska law? This clan is mine! I make the law here. Eefera, Vallug, seize that otter. I'll teach him to defy me. Somebeast bring me a whip!"
Tagg had the blade in front of him. "First beast who tries to lay paws on me dies!"
Vermin who had chanced a pace forward froze. They had seen the otter growing up and knew his awesome strength and skill. Nobeast was prepared to tangle with the Taggerung. Tagg backed toward the trees, his blade still menacing.
"I no longer want to be with you or your clan, Sawney. You've become too dangerous for your own good. I've watched you change over the seasons from a clan chief to a bad old beast. I go my own way now. Our paths will never cross again, so I wish you better times and hope you learn to treat others more wisely!"
Tagg moved so swiftly that the trees soon swallowed him up. "Our paths will cross, otter," Sawney called after him, "oh yes they will. I'm going to track you down and slay you myself!" He wrenched a spear from the grasp of Eefera. "Nobeast leaves this camp. I'll bring him back myself, dead or alive. Well, what are you all staring at, eh? He's old, you're thinking, he's not as fast as that otter. Well, you just wait and see. I've got a brain. I'm smart, smarter than he'll ever be. He's not a Taggerung anymore. But I'm still Sawney Rath!"
They watched in silence as he loped off into the dense fastness of north Mossflower woodlands, hard on the trail of his new enemy. Grissoul sat on the ground and tossed her bones and pebbles. She stared at the way they fell, noting the position of each one. Wordlessly, the Seer shook her head and covered her eyes.
Chapter 9
The rain stopped somewhere between late afternoon and early evening. Friar Bobb fought his way through a small pack of Dibbuns to open the main Abbey door and let them out to play. They tugged impatiently at his robes and apron.
"Us wanna go out'n'play!"
"Open a door. 'Urry up, Firebobb!"
He swung the doors wide and was almost knocked flat by Abbeybabes stampeding out onto the wet sunlit lawn. Shaking his ladle at them in mock anger, the fat old squirrelcook roared aloud, "Anybeast's late back for dinner an' I'll make soup out o' their tails!"
The fresh breeze from the open door, combined with a broad band of sunlight and the ensuing noise, roused Mhera and her friends from their slumbers. Cregga sat up straight, causing Gundil and Mhera to fall over. The ottermaid rubbed at her eyes as she struggled upright.
"What... where... oh, dear, we must've slept for ages!"
Gundil shook his head ruefully. "Hurr, an' uz never solved ee probberlem."
Cregga scratched her stripes thoughtfully. "I think I did. L.H.C. could mean the Left High Corner of the Warrior's tapestry. I think we'll need a ladder to reach it."
Suddenly the dream she had been having tumbled in on Mhera. "No, no, it's the Lantern Holder Column. Martin told me!"
"Martin told you?" Cregga sounded incredulous.
Mhera fidgeted with her girdle, slightly embarrassed. "I'm not sure it was him and I don't really know if I was properly asleep. I saw his picture, just like the one there on the tapestry, and a lovely gentle voice echoed in my mind. Lantern Holder Column, that was all it said."
There were two fluted half-columns, flat against the wall, one either side of the tapestry. Both had small iron lanterns hanging from them, to illuminate the image of the Warrior at night. It was still daylight, so they were unlit. Mhera looked from one lantern to the other. "Lantern Holder Columns, but which one?"
She took down the lanterns from their hooked iron holders and examined them with Gundil, whilst the blind badger went carefully up and down each column, sniffing and running her paws over the stonework. It was not a successful exercise.
Brother Hoben the Recorder came toward them, pulling a little cart containing oil, candles, wicks and cleaning equipment. He watched their activities curiously. "What are you doing there, may I ask?"
Cregga immediately recognized the mouse Recorder's voice. "Ah, Brother Hoben. Come to refill the lanterns, I suppose."
Hoben took a pitcher of lilac-scented vegetable oil from his cart and went about his task. " 'Tis the Recorder's job, always has been. To shed the light of knowledge and learning by keeping our Abbey's records, and to shed illumination where it is needed. Every sixth day I come 'round, replacing candles, collecting old beeswax and trimming each lantern and lamp wick. As you can see, I make sure each one is topped up with fresh oil. Why do you ask? Is there something amiss?"