The Sable Quean (Redwall) by Jacques Brian

Author:Jacques, Brian [Jacques, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2009-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

Axtel Sturnclaw, the Warrior mole, had regained his senses. He woke to the sound of Tassy and Borti weeping. The pain in Axtel’s footpaw was agonising; it had swollen with the spearhead still impaling it. However, his first thoughts were not for himself, but for the two babes.

Tassy was hugging little Borti, trying to comfort him, even though she herself was in tears. It was a pitiable sight.

Axtel beckoned to them. “Cumm yurr, likkle uns. ’Ush you’m weepin’—oi’ll take gudd care of ee.”

They sat close to him, leaning against his velvety fur. With an effort, Tassy got her sniffling under control. The Redwall squirrel Dibbun winced at the sight of the big mole’s wound.

“Yore paw is very hurted sir. ’Ow you goin’ t’fix it?”

Axtel sat up slowly, leaning forward to inspect the impaled limb. “Furst thing we’m got to do, likkle mizzy, is to be getten you spearpoint owt. Yurr, foind oi a gudd stone—that un o’er thurr.”

Tassy had to struggle a bit, but she fetched the chunk of limestone over to him.

Axtel smiled at her. “Gudd! Naow, put et unner moi futtpaw, so ’tis restin’ agin’ ee spearpoint.”

The squirrelbabe did as she was bidden. Axtel took a deep breath, readying himself. “You’m stan’ clear, naow, an’ moind ee babby sh’ew.”

Tassy obeyed without question. The mole took out his war hammer and set the haft between his teeth. He took hold of the stump of spear pole. Squinching his eyes tight shut, he shoved the spearpoint hard against the stone whilst at the same time giving the stump a swift, strong heave. Axtel roared. “Hoooouuuurrrr! Hooooaaaarggggh!”

He went backward, lying flat out, with the freed spearpoint grasped in his forepaws.

Carrying Borti, Tassy hurried to his side. “It’s out—you did it! But it’ bleedin’ blood!”

The big mole prised his jaws loose from the war hammer. “Hurr, so ’tis. Oi’ll needs to bandage et upp!”

Tassy placed Borti at her friend’s side. “You mind Borti. I know how t’make dressin’s—Sista Fumb’l teached me. Jus’ wait here, sir. I don’t be long.” She dashed off to find what she needed.

Seeing her go, Borti began wailing again. “Waaah, want my mamma!”

Axtel sat the little fellow on his chest, chuckling. “Hurr, an’ so do oi, zurr, but b’ain’t no use a-howlin’ fur hurr. Coom on, naow. Make ee gurt smile fur oi!” He tickled the shrewbabe with his snout.

Borti was very susceptible to tickles. He was soon wriggling and giggling through his tears.

Tassy returned with an apronful of stuff. She took over like a proper little Infirmary nurse. “Now, you lie still an’ I fix a paw up!”

Axtel adopted a look of serious obedience.

“Yuss, marm, oi’ll do azzakerly loike ee says!”

He watched in pleasurable wonder as the Redwall squirrelmaid worked on the injured footpaw. Wiping the wound clean with crushed sanicle flowers, poulticing the bleeding with soft moss, she dressed it with dockleaves and sainfoin, tying the whole thing off with chickweed stems, which she knotted neatly.

“There, now. ’Ow doo’s that feel?”

Axtel winked at Borti. “Yurr, she’m

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