"07 - The Bellmaker UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

pened so quickly, I couldn't see who it was."

Dandin picked up the oatcake and chuckled. "Not to worryЧlook, the little rogue's coming around fine. Haha, this is a true Redwall missile. See, there's not even a mark on it!"

The small hedgehog sat up slowly, gingerly pawing his head. He blinked at them and said, "Ooh! Where be I? Wot 'appened?"

Before Mariel could answer, Dandin chipped in, * 'You tripped and bumped your head, old lad."

Glaring at Dandin, the little beast bristled. "Me name don't be oF lad. I be Bowly Pintips, an' I'll thank ee to address I proper!"

Dandin adopted a look of mock fear and bowed respectfully. "Accept my humble apologies, Your Royal Bowlyness!"

Bowly snatched the oatcake and brandished it. "See this 'ere rock as I tripped over? Well, you make sport o' me, an' I'll biff ye with it! Wot's yore names? Speak up now afore I loses me temper with ye both!"

The hedgehog's impudence caused Mariel's mood of pity to vanish instantly. She grabbed Bowly firmly by his nose, pulling him up on tippaw, and said, "Listen to me, you cheeky little robber. I'm Mariel of Redwall and this is Dandin. We're both warriors. So keep a civil tongue in your head, or we'll give you two more lumps to go on top of the one you've already got!"

Tears streamed from Bowly's eyes as his nose was squeezed. "Yowow! Leggo ob be doze, yore hurtig bee!"

Mariel released him and he groveled in the sand, rubbing at both bump and snout. The mousemaid nodded as she sat by him.

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"That's better. Now, what's a little snippet like you doing out in the wastelands all alone? Where's your mum 'n' dad?"

Bowly shrugged glumly. "Never 'ad none as I c'd remember. Two weasels *ad me catchered south of 'ere, made me slave for 'em, tied me to a post at nights, but I 'scaped an' mimed away."

Dandin's friendly face grew grim. "How far south are these two weasels, Bowly?" he asked.

"About arf a night's march from 'ere. I only 'scaped just afore dark, Mister Dandy."

"My name's Dandin, not Mister Dandy," said Dandin, pawing the long dagger at his belt. "These two weasels, have they got food and drink?"

"O aye, they got vittles aplenty. Robs travelers, they do."

Mariel had retrieved the haversack. She knotted the carrying ropes together, exchanging a slow smile with Dandin. "Let's go and pay these two weasels a visit," she said.

The sand and shale were still warm from the day's heat, but the night air was cool as the three creatures strode south. Bowly Pintips giggled aloud when Dandin explained their plan to him.

Spurge and Agric the weasel slavers sat by their fire as dawn's rosy paws probed the eastern horizon. They were trying to brew a pan of mint tea, and making a total mess of it. At the side of the fire lay a stack of raw apple pancakes. Spurge burned his paw on the pan handle and danced about waving it. "Rot me ears,'ow does that Hddle spikedog brew this stuff?''

Agric prodded the pancakes with a wicked-looking willow cane. "Search me," he said. "Huh! I ain't sure 'ow t'cook these pancakes the rascal made las' night. Rotten liddle pincushion, we'll track 'im down; he can't go far without water in the wastelands. Wait'11 I lay claws on *im. I'll make that runaway weep fer a season or more!" He swished the cane through the air, grinning crookedly in anticipation of giving Bowly a severe whipping.

"Mornin', sirs. Sorry I runned off like'n that las' night!"

Spurge's jaw dropped. There was Bowly, ambling around the big shale rock that marked their camp. Quivering with rage, Agric pointed with the cane to a wooden

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