Read Online Loamhedge by Brian Jacques - Free Book Online

with all this vittle talk. Good . . . night!”
    Saro licked her lips. “Or some of yore favourite, a big carrot’n’mushroom pasty, with onion gravy drippin’ an’ oozin’ out the sides, an’ . . . Yaahoooow!”
    She was catapulted into the air as Bragoon hauled down hard on the bough, letting it go suddenly. Rising from the ground, Saro dusted herself off indignantly.
    â€œGettin’ touchy in yore old age, aren’t ye? Goodnight to ye, ole grumpy rudder!”
    Bragoon snorted. “I swear ye were born chatterin’. Now goodnight, old gabby whiskers!”
    Silence fell over the glade. Both lifelong friends drifted into the realm of slumber. They dreamt golden-tinged memories of their Dibbun seasons at the place they called home—Redwall Abbey.

6

    The big badger’s eyes flickered, then opened slowly. He lay quite still, taking in his strange surroundings—a cave, peaceful and warm, with sweet aromatic wisps drifting languidly from a rockbound hearth. A fireglow cast flickering shadows across the rough-hewn walls. He felt secure and safe there with moss and soft, silver sand beneath him.
    A movement near his head caught the badger’s attention. A young sea otter emerged.
    â€œDe old stripedog who was slayed, was he yore farder, sir?”
    Though it pained him, he strained his neck to get a closer look at the young one. The badger’s voice, echoing in the cavern, sounded strange to his ears. “Nay, he was my friend, though a father could not have been kinder to me. He was called Grawn. I trust you put him to rest decently.”
    The youngster nodded several times. “Shoredog an’ my farder made a bury hole. They putted rocks on him an’ yore bow, ’cos it was broked in halves.”
    The badger’s big dark eyes glistened wetly. “I must thank your father and Shoredog. What do they call you?”
    The young beast held out his paw politely. “I bee’s Stugg, son of Abruc an’ Marinu, sir.”
    A massive paw took Stugg’s smaller one, enveloping it. “ ’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Stugg. I am called Lonna Bowstripe. Is your father hereabout? I would speak with him.”
    Lonna listened to young Stugg scamper from the cavecalling shrilly. “Farder, farder, come quick! De big stripedog bee’s awake, his name be Lonna!”
    Â 
    In a short while, two male sea otters entered the cave, followed by two females, one very old, and Stugg following up the rear.
    Lonna leaned forward slightly. “Thank you, my friends, for saving my life, caring for me and putting old Grawn to rest. Stugg told me you buried him well.”
    Abruc pressed Lonna back down gently. “We did what was right for your companion. Only vermin leave the dead unburied. As for ye bein’ cared for, ’twas my wife Marinu an’ ole Sork who saw to yore well-bein’. You lie still an’ rest now, Lonna. By an’ by ye’ll get stronger. We’ll see to that.”
    The big badger’s paw touched the long scar ridge that crossed his face diagonally from eartip to jaw. “I must grow strong again to repay the vermin who did this and murdered poor Grawn. Did you see them?”
    Sork placed Lonna’s paw by his side. “Be still, bigbeast, an’ thank the seasons ye are still alive. That face still needs a lot of healing, aye, an’ yore back, too. We’ll bring ye food an’ drink.” Sork and Marinu departed.
    Shoredog stood over Lonna, looking down into his injured face. “We never saw the vermin, but we know ’em. Raga Bol the Searat an’ his crew were the ones. His ship was wrecked beyond repair. They have gone westward, inland to where the weather’s fair an’ the pickin’s easier. Do ye know Raga Bol?”
    Lonna’s scar twitched faintly. “I do not know the scum, but I know of him. They say he kills for fun.”
    Young