Free The Sable Quean by Brian Jacques Page A

hauled onto the walltops. They were dropped down to the Abbey lawns, where other Redwallers would cut them into small lengths, either for Friar Soogum’s firewood store or for Cellarmole Gurjee’s workshop. Good timber was never wasted.
     
    The Ravager group were crouching in the ditch by the west wall, when Daclaw held up a paw for silence. He listened intently.
    “Where’s all that noise comin’ from?”
    “Shall I go an’ see, Chief?” Dinko volunteered.
    Daclaw ignored him, pointing to a fat weasel. “Slopgut, you go. See wot it is an’ report straight back.”
    Dinko did not like being left out. He was curious. “Wot d’ye think it is, Chief?”
    Daclaw stamped on the young rat’s tail. “We’ll get t’know when Slopgut gits back. Why d’ye think I sent ’im, thick’ead? Now, shut yer trap!”
     
    The work was going well on the east side. Stout branches of sycamore, beech, oak and hornbeam were being sawn into manageable sections by Sister Fumbril and a big hedgehog named Bartij, who besides being the Infirmary Sister’s aide, was also Redwall’s orchard gardener. Together they worked a double-pawed logsaw, keeping up a steady rhythm.
    Brother Tollum called out to Skipper, “There goes the last branch, Skip, a nice piece o’ spruce!”
    Darbee Foremole waved to his crew. “Haul ’er in, moi beauties. Ee job bee’s well dunn!”
    Granvy clapped his paws cheerfully. “Aye, an’ just in time, here comes lunch!”
    Hogwife Drull and her kitchen helpers hove into view. They were wheeling two trolleys piled high with good things to eat. Abbess Marjoram was with them. Molebabe Guffy and his friend, a squirrel Dibbun called Tassy, took the Abbess by her paws.
    “Yurr, marm, cumm an’ see all ee wudd we’m chop pered up furr ee—b’ain’t that roight, Tassy?”
    Marjoram chuckled. “Is that little Miss Tassy under all that sawdust and woodchips?”
    The tiny squirrelmaid piped up, “I been very, very bizzy wivva natchet, chop chop!”
    The Abbess dusted bark chips from Tassy’s ears. “Then you should be ready for some mushroom and leek soup and vegetable pasties. Then we’ve got apple and black currant crumble with arrowroot sauce.”
    Everybeast surged forward at the mention of the treats to come. They were halted by Skipper’s shout.
    “Sit down where y’are, all of ye, or there’ll be no lunch!”
    He bowed gallantly to Drull and the Abbess. “Serve away, marms. Feed these savage beasts, if ye please!”
    Guffy scowled darkly as he plumped down on the lawn. “Samwidge beast you’m self, zurr!”
     
    Slopgut had watched the tree-lopping exercise. He scurried back and reported to Daclaw.
    Furtively the group leader took his Ravagers around to the east wall—the wickergate was open. Bidding the rest to wait in the shrubbery, Daclaw and his mate, Raddi, peeped carefully through the gateway. Raddi watched the Redwallers lunching. She could smell the soup and the other food. The ferret licked her lips.
    “I don’t blame young Globby wantin’ vittles like that. Makes ye wish y’was a woodlander yerself, don’t it?”
    Daclaw glared at her. “Don’t talk like that, mate. If’n Zwilt the Shade hears ye, it’s sure death!”
    Raddi pulled him back from the gateway suddenly.
    “Wot did ye do that for?” Daclaw protested indignantly.
    She clamped a paw around his mouth, whispering fiercely, “Didn’t ye see? There’s two young uns comin’ this way. The others haven’t noticed ’em. I think they’re takin’ their vittles out into the woods, mebbe to ’ave a picnic. Lissen, mate, we’ll grab the pair of ’em, gag their mouths an’ clear out of ’ere fast before they’re missed. Are ye ready?”
    Daclaw whipped off his tattered shirt, tearing it into two makeshift gags. He passed one to Raddi.
    “Ready as I’ll ever be, mate. Ssshh, I can ’ear ’em!”
     
    Back inside on the Abbey lawn, everybeast relaxed after the work, lying about in the sun as they enjoyed a