8
Laramie crawled to the circle where Abbott Walden and the other primary architects of the escape plan waited. "For the most part, they're at the very least impaired," she said.
"The vermin?" asked Abbott Walden.
"Yes." Laramie lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder at the round table, stacked high with trinkets and cards and bottles. Boisterous chatter drifted from its direction. "Of the seven of 'em, two are passed out, one looks soon to be, and three are slurring their speech an' teetering in their seats."
"And the seventh?" asked Walden.
"The seventh is their captain, the stoat. His name's Jareck." Laramie pointed Jareck out as inconspicuously as possible. The majority of the trinkets were piled in front of him, and he led the conversation with a steady stream of loquaciousness to which his playing companions nodded with occasional interjections. "I've been watching him the most. He's had a drink in front of him the entire night but he's never taken a sip that I've seen. He's claimed multiple times to his mates that he doesn't carry a weapon but all that means is he definitely carries a weapon. He's their leader for a reason, at the very least."
Gilmer the Cellarkeeper kneaded a long, knotted rope in his paws, which he had tied together to make a fine flail. "Then we take 'im out first. Leave it to me."
"Once Jareck's down, the others shouldn't be an issue," said Laramie. But then she hesitated. "I think."
"Burr, oi doin't reckon thurr's any way t'figgur that'un oot but to troi it furr urrselves," said Foremole Griggs.
"Yes," said Laramie. "We won't have a better time to strike than right now, while the rest of the vermin are at their feast and our guards are still incapacitated. It's now or never. How many of us did we manage to untie?"
"Not as many as I'd've liked," said Gilmer. "Took much longer'n we expected to cut through the first rope, an' after that it took much longer'n expected to untie the others, they're knotted tight. I'd say we managed to get about half of our number free. The rest we'll have to worry about later."
Abbott Walden gave a sage nod of his head. "You've all done well, I'm quite proud of you. Here's how we shall proceed: With our makeshift weapons we will dispatch the guards as best as we can. We cannot allow a single one of the guards to escape and raise alarm. Fortunately, our newfound benefactors in their endless magnanimity have given use ample rope to assist in this task. Once the guards have been tied up, we have to get everybeast from this room to the south wallgate undetected. Under normal circumstances this task would not be difficult at all, simply up the stairs out of the cellar, down along the Abbey wall for a bit, and there we are."
"But with a good threescore of us, young and old included, it'll be much harder," said Laramie.
"Indeed," said Walden, pushing up his spectacles. "As such, we'll move like this: Laramie, you'll take the lead with Roane and ensure the coast is clear before we start filing out of the cellar. It should be fine—I've never heard of a vermin willing to pass up free food and drink—but if there are any complications at all we need to know before we're exposed alongside the south wall. So you and Roane—where is Roane, anyway?"
"He's still spying on the guards," said Laramie. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he knows the plan."
Gilmer leaned forward, pulling his knotted rope taut. "The vermin're probably snoozin' away by now, what with the amount of my ale they hauled away for their feast. Why don't we just sneak out and rout the lot've 'em right now?"
"Too dangerous," said Walden. "Much too dangerous. They outnumber us. Not to mention, none of us here can handle their leader, Alagadda. Not even Fannin—"
They fell silent for a moment.
"—Well," said Walden. "Well, that's that. We escape out the south. We regroup with Alger and the others. We muster all the help we can from the surrounding woodland and we retake Redwall. Are all agreed?"
All agreed.
"Good. Then let's get this plan into action."
Jareck leaned a little lazily in his chair, tilting his head over the mounting pile of loot at one of the few remaining of his cadre still of sound enough mind to see their cards straight. "Eh, Letcher? What'll it be, another round?"
The rat Letcher concentrated on his cards, his eyes blazing with a kind of intensity Jareck had seen often enough before to mark as the telltale sign of the sucker. "Gimme a minute, I'm thinkin'," he grunted.
Jareck turned to another creature still with cards. "And whaddabout you, Switz?"
Switz gaped at Jareck from behind his cards. "I ain't got nuttin' left to bet," he said.
"Ah, that's no fun," said Jareck, slapping Switz on the shoulder. "Tell ya what. Since you're such a swell fellow, Switz, I propose this as your bet for the next round. I win, an' you gotta tell me what kind of creature you are exactly."
Switz was nonplussed. "What kinda… creature?"
"Yeah, 'tis been drivin' me mad ever since I saw ya. Can't pin you down. Too big fer a weasel, too small fer a stoat, ferret don't sit right, and you shore ain't no fox or rat I ever seen. So what is, what are ya?"
Switz stared back, dumbfounded.
"You won't… you won't get anything outta that one," said a female ferret named Iredell, who had had quite enough to drink. "He so dumb, he don't even… he don't even know what he is!"
"Pine marten," said Letcher, with a growl.
"He ain't no pine marten," said Jareck.
"I say he's a pine marten."
"Tell me, you ever happen to see an actual pine marten?"
"Indeed I have, he's sittin' right across the table from me with that big dopey expression on 'is face."
"I seen a pine marten afore," said Jareck. "In fact, several. An' they look nuttin' like that'un."
"Then mebbe you oughtta get yore eyes checked out, 'cuz you'd 'ave to be blind t'not see he's a pine marten." Letcher's paws hooked around his cards, adding a few extra crumples that Jareck immediately put to memory. "In fact, you'd 'ave t'be blind t'not see that ye've been robbin' us blind all day long, an' that you ain't got no intention to stop!"
"Robbin' you blind," said Jareck, as if mulling over the words carefully. "Whaddya mean by that?"
"Whaddya mean by that, he says, as if he ain't got a clue. Lookit this pile of loot—our loot—he's got stacked in front of 'em. You think 'tis luck that got you all that?"
"'Tis not luck, 'tis skill," said Jareck.
Letcher lurched up abruptly, hurling his cards across the table and into Jareck's face. The rat's gait had a drunken stagger to it. "I tell ye, yer a no-good dirty rotten fleabitten mangy cheat, that's what you are, an' I'll only ask you to hand back my things once afore I draw my weapon."
"Now now, Letcher," said Jareck. "You don't wanna do that. That'd be a mistake."
Switz the who-knew-what, who besides Jareck was the most sober of them all on account of either some tremendous aspect of his constitution or else simply the lack of any brain to inebriate in the first place, stared at the proceedings wide-eyed. His head bobbled up and down ceaselessly. "He's right, Letcher, you don't wanna do that."
"Stow it, Switz. This stoat's too old t'take me on even if he wanted to, and that's not even takin' into account the fact that he's unarmed, as he's told us so many times. We'll see 'ow he keeps that smirk on 'is face when I got his guts strewn around his neck!" He drew his blade, a bent shortsword.
Jareck only smiled. "An' what'll Lady Alagadda think, you havin' killed one of 'er cap'ns?"
At the mention of Alagadda, Letcher seemed to recoil some, but he blinked several times and regained his aggressive composure. "If a cap'n's gettin' hisself slain by a lesser hordebeast, then I say that hordebeast oughtta be rewarded for weedin' out a weakling. Alagadda'll promote me, that's what she'll do."
Jareck tsk-tsked. "You rats are all the same. Ambitious braggarts."
"Why I oughtta—" said Letcher, not bothering to explain what he oughtta at all.
Jareck became aware that somebeast had risen behind him seconds before he heard the whoosh of something heavy being slung through air. His reflexes kicked in and he hit the floor, the knotted rope whipping harmlessly over his head.
Six or seven Redwallers leapt up out of the seething mass of eyes in the darkness, each wielding a flail constructed of knotted rope. The drunken, half-asleep vermin were taken immediately. A rope smacked Switz in the face and he hurtled backwards out of his chair, while the ferret Iredell took a whack to the back that knocked her across the table. The other vermin, even less conscious, hardly had to be restrained at all as they only managed to raise their swollen heads before being accosted.
The attack had come with so much commotion and noise that it took a moment for Jareck, strategically crouched underneath the table, to hear Letcher shouting for everybeast to get back. Only when the Redwallers began to quiet did he discern why: Letcher had seized a young squirrel and now held his blade to his throat.
"Back off, all o'ye, or watch me spill this'un's blood all cross the floor!"
"Roane," shouted Laramie, who had been one of the initial attack party.
Roane dared not struggle even an inch against the sharp of the sword. "It's okay," he said, his eyes frantic. "It's okay."
"I said back off!" shouted Letcher. "Back off, an' let my mates go."
Some of the Redwallers had already begun to bind the paws of the poleaxed vermin with what had once been their very own ties. At the threat from Letcher, they stepped away, tossing the ropes and holding their paws over their heads.
"Good, good," said Letcher, with a sneer plastered all over his face. "We'll 'ave to tie you up tighter next time. Or better yet, slaughter the lot a ye." He looked around the dim cellar room, at the eyes staring at him unblinking and full of fear. Jareck, beneath the table, had fallen out of sight, and also out of mind—Letcher was in charge.
To feel out his newfound power, with his free paw he snapped at another rat sitting at the table, who had roused himself to some state of consciousness in the fracas. "Beadle, get Lady Alagadda. Tell her Letcher's managed to keep a slave revolt at bay and fer her to send reinforcements immediately."
Beadle blinked.
"I said go!" hissed Letcher.
Muttering apologies, Beadle staggered upright, swaying to and fro as he meandered amongst the stunned woodlanders toward the cellar door atop the stairs. He tripped many times.
"Now," said Letcher, "The rest of ye sit tight or—"
A hideous scream emerged from the top of the stairs, shattering the silence that had engulfed the cellar. Letcher, Jareck, and everybeast else in the room turned just in time to watch Beadle fly out the door. One moment Beadle was there, screaming, the next he was gone, and silent.
"'Ey," said Switz, looking up groggily and massaging a lump on his head, "Where'd Beadle go?"
Letcher craned his neck around the squirrel he was threatening to kill. "Beadle? You okay there, mate?"
A reptile coiled its way through the open doorway, appearing limb-by-limb at the top of the stairs, its claws clicking against the stone as it tilted its head to the side and swept a yellow eye across the creatures gathered below it.
Nobeast said a word as the lizard started its slow, careful descent down the steps into the cellar. The few vermin who had weapons left to draw drew them, their paws trembling. The lizard reached the bottom few steps and a concavity appeared in the group of creatures before it, each pressing against the one at his or her back to move away from the snarling beast.
Its gaze centered on a feeble mousewife at the front of the mass. A tongue flickered between its curved fangs as it readied its claws to strike.
Laramie leapt past one of the vermin, seized his sword, dove through the crowd, and threw herself upon the lizard. Screaming the warcry of Redwall Abbey, she tackled the lizard and struck it with the weapon, whipping again and again across its scaly torso. The lizard lashed out and raked a claw across Laramie's face, but with unbridled ferocity she continued to stab and slash and stab and slash and slash and stab at the writhing thing beneath her, until finally with a final spasm it lay still, a puddle of blood forming around it on the cold stone floor.
She climbed off the thing, wiping the blood from her fur.
"Somebeast close that door," she said, pointing up the stairs.
Nobeast moved.
Jareck reached out from under the table and gave Switz a nudge. "Close the door, mate, 'tis a bit drafty in here."
Either Switz believed the excuse or he simply refused to disobey an order from his superior. He pushed his way through the glut of creatures in the cellar and trudged up the stairs. All the eyes in the room galvanized to him as he reached the door and peeked out, all expecting him to disappear exactly as Beadle had done. But he simply reached for the door and pulled it shut without any commotion.
He came back down the stairs. "More of 'em lizzerds out there, I'd say." Nonchalant, as if it were an everyday occurrence.
"'Ow many more," said Letcher, breathless despite not having moved in some time, and still clutching Roane with a blade to the Bellringer's throat.
Switz shrugged. "Countin' has ne'er been my fore-tay, so to speak."
"Quit the glib," said Letcher. "More've 'em than you got fingers on yore paws?"
Switz pondered it. "Oh yes," he said at last, "Lots more'n that."
"An' what're they doin'," said Letcher.
"Eatin'," said Switz.
"Blast it Switz, now yer just bein' coy, what're they eatin'?"
"Deadbeasts," said Switz, "Lots've 'em."
An audible gasp rippled through the creatures in the cellar. A few creatures tried to surge for the exit, although the exit would only plunge them into whatever gorging Switz had witnessed, and a panic might have arisen had not Abbott Walden leapt in front of the stairs, holding up his paws for peace.
"Please, we must not descend into anarchy," he said. "If we allow fear to seize hold of us, many will be trampled and crushed in this small space. We're safe down here for the time being, there is no cause for alarm!"
Gilmer the Cellarkeeper appeared beside him. At the hedgehog's calm, commanding presence, many of the frightened woodlanders calmed, or at least ceased their nascent riot to escape. "We've better things t'do than start screamin', anyway. Let's roll up a few o'those spare kegs to stack in front of the door, so more of those things don't come wanderin' in. Then we can puzzle out a plan."
Abbott Walden nodded sagely and began to instruct a few well-bodied creatures to assist Gilmer in barricading the door when Letcher staggered forward, still holding Roane in front of him. The poor squirrel looked nearly ready to faint.
"Now wait just a minute," said Letcher. "Don't you all start jumpin' around gettin' things done as if I ain't still the one in charge around here. Lest ye want to see this'un's blood paintin' the floor, ye best sit down and shut up and let me do the talkin'!"
"Yer in no position t'be givin' orders, rat," said Gilmer. "Yer in this mess as much as we are, now."
"I said sit down!" Letcher hissed.
"Maybe we oughtta all sit down," Roane managed to whimper.
With an exasperated sigh, Gilmer signaled to the other woodlanders to sit. They hesitated, but after a few moments most of them managed to do so, many having been trembling so much that standing had been difficult anyway. More than a small number of them kept sending furtive glances at the door at the top of the stairs—closed for now.
"And you, missie, drop the blade."
Laramie had remained kneeling by the corpse of the lizard, inspecting it. She cast an askance glare at Letcher.
Jareck emerged from under the table. "Look, Letcher, if Switz ain't lyin'—"
Letcher wheeled on Jareck. "I'm the one in charge here, not you! You ain't got a blade an' you ain't got Lady Alagadda to say yer the captain, so I'm gonna go ahead an' appoint myself captain in the meantime. So yer gonna listen to me."
"Or do what," said Jareck. "Stab me? An' let go of yore hostage so the woodlanders can take you?"
A deep, frustrated breath escape between Letcher's gritted teeth. He motioned at Iredell the ferret, who stood near Jareck, rubbing her back. "Iredell, you got a weapon, don't ye? Be a dear an' use it, will ya?"
Iredell looked at a loss for words and was about to stammer something when Laramie leapt up and pressed the tip of her blade to Letcher's throat before he had a time to react. "Drop my good friend Brother Roane, please."
"Get back or I'll kill him," said Letcher.
"Let go or I kill you," said Laramie.
"And then the lizard army burst through the doors and devoured us all," said Jareck. "The end."
They stood locked in a standstill for far longer than they should have. Finally, after ten endless seconds, Letcher tossed his sword aside and hurled Roane away from him.
"Good," said Laramie.
Letcher spat in her face. She smashed him over the skull with the hilt of the sword and he dropped like a lump.
Wiping the spittle from her fur, she said, "Get that door barricaded." Gilmer and the others wasted no time heading for the few remaining kegs to pile in front of the door.
"Now, I'll let you block the door," said Jareck, sitting on the table now, with the other four vermin gathered around him. "An' I'll let you hatch whatever plan you think can get you outta this situation. I ain't like Letcher on the ground there, I'm a reasonable creature, an' as far as my interests right about now go, self-preservation's right at the top o'the list. So lemme propose a deal—"
"No," said Laramie.
"Now, hear me out—"
"No," said Laramie. "I've no interest in any deal put forward by any vermin, especially one who up until we turned the tables had been content to lord over us as slaves."
"Oh come now, I was doin' no lordin', 'tis an exaggeration—"
"And even if I wasn't disinclined toward any so-called 'deal' of yours out of principle, I just watched you swindle your companions out of every possession they own by cheating at cards. So allow me to reiterate: No."
Jareck shook his head and held out his paws to the vermin grouped around them as if to ask, Do you believe this? From the looks they gave him back, they did believe it.
Gilmer and the team he had organized took little time to stack a few good barrels in front of the door. The hedgehog clapped dust from his paws and regarded Walden and Laramie. "Now what? What's the plan?"
Walden adjusted his spectacles and gave a polite cough. "We wait. We're safe for the time being, and until that changes I see no reason to endanger ourselves."
"Ah," said Jareck. In the earlier fracas he had lost his ruddy coin, but now it had reappeared between the fangs of his teeth as if it had never gone missing. "You'll make cannibals of us all in two days time, I'll reckon."
Laramie wheeled on him. "An' what's that supposed to mean?"
"Lots t'drink," said Jareck. "Not so much as a scrap to eat. How long're we gonna wait down here?"
Laramie looked to Abbott Walden, who looked back to her. Neither said a word; nobeast said a word. On the other side of the cellar door, something long and ragged began to scrape against the half-rotten wood.