Cregga shook her head and leaned down more heavily on Mhera. "The flop-eared idiot. I knew many such hares long ago. Brave, foolish and reckless, or perilous, as the Long Patrol would say. Let's hope fervently that he makes it! Egburt, I'm promoting you to Commander of the Wallguard in Boorab's absence. Are you able for the job, young hog?"
Egburt performed an excellent parody of the hare. "Able, marm, able's my second name, wot wot. Your wish is my command, I won't say another word, attention, smart salute, eyes right, and I'll bid ye a good day. Quick march, one two one two, pick that step up there, laddie buck!"
Eefera released his prisoners and issued them with their weapons. They stood looking bewildered. Vallug sounded almost friendly as he addressed them.
"Surprised t'find yoreselves alive an' kickin' today, eh? Well, so am 1. Those beasts be'ind the walls must be softer'n we thought they was, which is all the better fer us. Now, we're goin' to take a nice liddle walk, up north a bit, across the path an' into the ditch, then back down t'the main gates o' Redwall. Keep yore 'eads down low; they can use slings from those walltops. We've given ye back yer weapons, so try an' look just a bit like Juska warriors. I'll be be'ind youse all the way. First one makes a wrong move an' I'll spit 'em with an arrer. Wot are yew lookin' at me like that for, Gruven? Cummon, speak up."
No matter how hard he tried, Gruven could not shake of his fear of Vallug. It was as if the Bowbeast was looking for an excuse to kill him. Gruven's paws trembled uncontrollably as he tried to speak around the lump of panic welling in his throat.
"I, er, wasn't lookin' at ye."
Vallug brought his face close to Gruven's. "Say sir."
"I wasn't lookin' at ye ... sir."
Vallug grinned wolfishly at Eefera. "If only 'is mammy could see 'im now. Come on, let's get goin'."
Eefera went ahead to show the way; Vallug followed in the rear, keeping the three sandwiched between them. They had not gone far when Eefera raised a paw and halted them. He signaled Vallug to hold the three in silence, then ducked off amid the shrubbery.
Nimbalo scarce had time to do a half-turn before Eefera's spearbutt crashed down upon his skull. Slinging the little fellow over his shoulders, Eefera made his way back to the others. He dumped the unconscious harvest mouse on the ground in front of them.
"See wot I found, mates. Lookit wot's in the mousey's belt, Vallug. Now tell me the Taggerung ain't inside Redwall Abbey!"
Vallug took the knife almost reverently from Nimbalo's belt. "Sawney Rath's blade! Well, slit me gizzard an' stew me tripes! Yore right, this is where Taggerung's got to be!"
None of them had ever seen Nimbalo before, so they took him to be a Redwaller. Vallug prodded the field mouse's limp form with his bow. "Makes yer wonder wot this 'un's doin', totin' the knife around, don't it? I 'ope you ain't killed 'im."
Eefera took a prod at Nimbalo with his spearshaft. "Looks dead. No, wait, I think I seen 'is nose twitch. Dagrab, you'n'Gruven can carry 'im. If'n the mousey comes 'round 'e'll be valuable to us. Must be somebeast special if'n that otter give 'im the blade. Come on, we ain't got all day."
They trekked off north, to where they could cross the path and gain the safety of the ditch without being seen from the Abbey.
Between them, Drogg Cellarhog and Broggle helped old Hoarg up the east wallsteps, though there was no real need to. The ancient dormouse was fully recovered and felt very spry after his welcome discharge from Sister Alkanet's sickbay.
"By hokey, there must've been somethin' in that physick, I feel like a Dibbun this mornin'. Heeheehee!"
Drogg allowed Hoarg to scamper away up the steps. He shook his spiky head admiringly and clapped Broggle's back. "Wish I felt like that. Miz Fwirl will soon be up an' about, I 'ear. 'Ow did she look when ye visited 'er?"
The assistant cook smiled thankfully at Drogg. "She's fine, thank you, and ten times better since I gave her the flowers and your wonderful flask of cordial. Sister Alkanet shooed me out after a while, because Cregga and Mhera had come to visit. You know the Sister, said she didn't want a crowd 'round Fwirl's bed. I'll go up and see her again later." He turned and looked up to the ramparts. "I don't think Hoarg likes it up there. He's coming back down."
Waving his paws and making exaggerated shushing noises, Hoarg descended the steps nimbly. "Keep yore voices down. I just saw a vermin roamin' about in the woodlands. Come an' take a peep, he might still be there!"
Three heads popped over the battlements, watching Tagg moving toward the southeast wallcorner. The otter looked back over his shoulder, causing the spies to crouch down swiftly upon the parapet. Hoarg shuddered.
"Real vermin, that 'un. Did y'see his face, covered in tattoos! He looks as nasty savage a piece o' work as ever I set eyes on. Bet he's killed more'n a few pore innocent creatures!"
Drogg interrupted the old Gatekeeper's tirade. "Wot was the vermin up to when ye first saw 'im, Hoarg?"
"Couldn't see clear, but it looked t'm like he was tryin' the east wickergate below us. Good job 'tis well locked."
Broggle was shaking, though not with fear; the rage was plain on his face. He clenched his paws resolutely. "That vermin could be the scum who put an arrow in my Fwirl. Great tattooed scumfaced coward, let's capture him!"
Drogg stared at the squirrel incredulously. "Capture him? An' how are we goin' t'do that, pray? Did you get a proper look at the beast? He could eat the three of us!"
But Broggle was not to be denied. He bared his teeth viciously. "We won't give him the chance, friends. He's already tried to open the east wickergate. I'll wager an acorn to an oak that he'll try the south wickergate when he reaches there. Well, the blaggard's going to find it unlocked. We'll be waiting just inside the doorway with clubs, to welcome him to Redwall!"
Drogg's face was serious. He took hold of Broggle's paw. "It's dangerous. Are you sure ye want to do this?"
Fired by Broggle's plan, old Hoarg suddenly became belligerent. "I say let's do it. Those cowards are goin' t'pay for stickin' an' arrow in my ear. We'll show 'em that Redwallers aren't fools they can shoot at as they please. I'm with ye, Broggle!"
Drogg became infected by the warlike pair. "Then count me in too, mates! We've got a bit o' time, the rascal didn't look to be in any great 'urry. You two nip down an' open the wickergate bolts, quietly as y'can. I'll go an' get us some weapons. We'll make the vermin sorry they ever messed about with Redwall warriors!"
Tagg strolled slowly and silently along the outside of the southern wall, keeping alert for any sign of the Juska vermin. He stopped often, running his paws across the massive sandstone blocks, awed by the colossal scale of Redwall. Tree cover thinned out, and he found himself on open ground. Crouching close to the wall, he made his way carefully, ever watchful for the foe. About halfway along he encountered a recess in the stonework. It was a small door, stoutly made from seasoned oak. This was a wickergate, similar to the one he had encountered in the east wall. Bending low to avoid hitting his head on the peak-arched lintel, Tagg gave the door an experimental push. It opened slightly. He pushed harder, crouching down and poking his head inside to see what lay beyond the wall 'twixt ramparts and Abbey building. A wooden barrel-coopering mallet and two hard ash axe handles hit the back of his head simultaneously. He dropped like a log.
Hoarg did a little victory dance. "Heehee, poleaxed by an axe pole, heeheehee!"
Broggle silenced the old Gatekeeper sternly. "Stop that, Hoarg, or we'll all be in trouble!"