Vallug's voice came back a moment later. "Never mind who we are. Send out the Taggerung!"
Boorab looked at Mhera, who gave a mystified shrug. "What in the blazes d'you mean?" he shouted back.
This time it was Eefera's voice that replied. "We've come fer the Taggerung!"
The hare had been binding his kerchief to the end of the ladle he carried about as a swagger stick. He sprang up waving it. "Truce, chaps, truce!" He sidestepped smartly, but was not quick enough to stop Vallug's arrow slicing a wound in his cheek as it zipped by.
"No truce, rabbit. Send the Taggerung out to us, or yore all deadbeasts, that's all!"
Vallug fired two more arrows over the wall. "That should give 'em summat t'think about fer today."
Eefera led the way as they retreated into the woodlands. "Aye, we'll kill another tomorrer. They'll soon send 'im out!"
Sister Alkanet cut the barbed head from the arrow and pulled the wooden shaft out of the wound in Fwirl's side. She gave the arrowhead to Brother Hoben and set about mixing herbs and powders from her infirmary shelves. "It went right through. Never hit anything vital, or this pretty one would be dead. I can clean and dress this while she's still unconscious. Good thing the shock and pain knocked her out. Would you see if that arrowhead is poisonous? Vermin often do that to shafts. This squirrel won't be up and about for a while, but she'll live. You can go and give Broggle the good news."
In the passage outside the sickbay, Foremole Brull, Drogg Cellarhog and Gundil had tight hold of Broggle, who was struggling and pleading with them.
"Let me go and see Fwirl. I must be with her, I must! Please!"
Brull had a strong but kindly paw about the squirrel's neck. "Naow, zurr, doan't ee fret yurrself. You'm h'only be inna way an' ee Sister wuddent never 'ave that, burr nay, she'm surpintly wuddent. You'm be a guddbeast an' be ee still noaw, maister!"
The door opened and Brother Hoben came out. He smiled at Broggle. "Fwirl's not dead, my friend, merely senseless. She'll be fine provided that this arrowhead isn't poisoned."
Drogg Cellarhog took the arrowhead. He licked it and smacked his lips thoughtfully. '"Tain't poisoned. Any good cellar'og can taste badness after a lifetime o' brewin' all manner o' drinks. Nah, that'-s clean. Cummon, Broggle, me ole bushtail, smile. Yore Fwirl will be right as rain afore the season's out."
Blinking away his tears, Broggle smiled hopefully. "Does that mean I can go in and see her?"
Drogg throw a sympathetic paw about the squirrel's shoulder. "Put one paw in there an' ole Alkanet'll physick the tail off ye, young feller. Best come with me t'the cellar, an' I'll give ye a flask of me special tearose an' violet cordial. When miz Fwirl feels brighter, y'can pick 'er a nice bunch o' flowers an' take 'em up with the cordial." They went off together down the stairs, Broggle talking animatedly.
"Is it good stuff, this cordial? Will Fwirl like it? Now, what kind of flowers should I pick? Er, pansy, marigold and celandine if there's any still about. She likes golden-colored flowers."
Foremole Brull nudged Gundil. "Hurr, so does oi, but et be's a long toime since oi 'ad any."
Gundil smiled from ear to ear. "Hurr hurr, oill goo an' pick ee summ, marm. Keep Broggle cumpany."
On his way downstairs, Gundil passed Mhera, assisting a reluctant Boorab up to the infirmary.
"Oh, pish tush, m'geL nothin' a plum pudden won't cure, wot. I'd sooner have a plum pudden than a blinkin' physick off that stern-faced poisoner. I'll bet there's chaps gone in there an' never come out again after one of Sister Alkanet's potions was poured down their flippin' faces. I'll just nip down t'the kitchens. Nothin' a beaker of October Ale an' the odd bucket o' salad won't take care of, wot wot?"
Mhera kept a firm grip on the hare's ear. "Come on, you great fusspot, that wound needs dressing. I'll see that you get extra supper after she's finished with you."
The suggestion of extra food heartened Boorab considerably. "Oh, well, have it your own way, miz. By the way, d'you know what a Taggerung is? 'Cos I'm jolly well blowed if I do."
Mhera's face was grim as she knocked on the sickbay door. "No, I don't know what a Taggerung is, but just let one show its face around here. Mayhap we'll find out more at the elders' meeting tonight. Surely somebeast has heard of a Taggerung."
Chapter 27
Even though the night was warm and a full moon hung in the sky like a new gold coin, Vallug felt sulky. He had always lit a campfire at night. Eefera crouched in the shelter of a broad beech tree, trying to ignore the ferret. Vallug looked at the small heap of twigs he had gathered.
"Nighttime's miserable when y'don't 'ave a fire!"
Eefera was enjoying the Bowbeast's discomfort. "Well, go on then, you light a fire. But don't expect me t'sit by it. I told yer, those beasts in there ain't stupid. If they've got any good slayers or seasoned warriors, they'll be out searchin' for us right now. It makes sense, don't it? We prob'ly killed two of theirs an' wounded the big rabbit. If they're supposed t'be the fighters Sawney Rath reckoned 'em t'be, they ain't goin' to let that go without strikin' back. You don't need no fire, not on a summer night like this. Yore gettin' soft in yer old age."
Vallug stood slowly. Stiff-necked, he clenched his paws. "Lissen, weasel, d'you want ter try me, see 'ow soft I am, eh?"
"Sssshh, stow it!" Eefera cocked an ear, listening carefully to the sounds of the nighttime woodlands. "See, I told yer," he whispered. "I can 'ear 'em. Lissen!"
Vallug tuned in his senses to the sounds amid the trees. "Aye, yore right. What'll we do?" He watched a slow, wicked smile spread across the weasel's face.
"Sounds as if there's no more'n three of 'em. Let's light the fire an' 'ide nearby. We'll kill one an' take the other two alive!"
Dagrab sniffed the warm dry air suspiciously. "I kin smell fire. Pine an' dead beech twigs, over yonder."
Gruven drew his sword, signaling the other two to arm themselves. They crept forward, Gruven whispering urgently, "Take no prisoners. Kill anybeast who's by that fire!" Then he dropped back slightly, allowing Dagrab and Rawback to go unwittingly ahead of him.
Stalking carefully between the trees, the two vermin reached the fire and waited until Gruven caught up. Dagrab turned as he appeared between them. "Chief, there's nobeast there."
Gruven crouched down. "Take a look around."
Rawback blinked as he scanned the area beyond the flames. "Dagrab's right, Chief, there ain't nobeast about."
Gruven laid his sword upon the grass. Placing a paw on each of their backs, he shoved them stumbling into the firelight. "Well, if there's nobeast there wot're ye scared of?"
Both vermin gave a panicked squeak, and turned to jump back out of the firelight. Eefera leaped from the shadows and whacked them flat with a long chunk of dead oak branch. Gruven reached for his sword, but it was not there. Vallug's bow dropped over his head from behind and was pulled backward, choking Gruven as the swordpoint prodded at his spine. Vallug marched him into the firelight.
"Well, if it ain't the Gruven Zann Juskazann called to visit 'is ole mates. Isn't that nice? 'E brought Dagrab an' Rawback along too. We're all one big 'appy family agin, eh?"
Any ideas Gruven had harbored of killing Vallug and Eefera by ambush collapsed. Pangs of fright caused him to flop down on the ground. His cowardly nature took over, and he emitted a choking sob.
"Th-there's f-food in the sacks."
Eefera grabbed the supply sacks from the stunned vermin. He shook their contents out in front of the fire. It was the remains of the provisions they had plundered from the southern Forthrights.
"Hoho! Flatcakes an' nuts; fruit, too. Wot's in the flasks? Cordial? Looks good, eh? Aha, a fruitcake, a nice big 'un! Bet you was keepin' this fer yerself, Gruven, bein' Chief an' all that."
Vallug dug the swordpoint into Gruven's back a little. "Oh, this 'un's a real Juskazann all right. Did ye 'ear 'im back there? Take no prisoners, kill anybeast who's by the fire? Then 'e 'angs back an' lets those two dead'eads go forward!"