The Rogue Crew

13

Rigid with fear, Uggo Wiltud quailed under Razzid Wearat’s evil eye. He could feel the vermin’s foul breath on his face as Razzid hissed, “So, yore a Redwall creature. Don’t be afraid, I won’t harm ye. Tell me yore name an’ the name of yore liddle friend. She’s a pretty one, ain’t she?”

Uggo opened his mouth, but no sound came forth. The Wearat turned to his companions, chuckling. “Pore liddle’og’s lost his tongue.”

Jiboree slid out a curved dagger. “Shall I find it for ’im, Cap’n?”

From some untapped well, courage sprang up in Posy. She leapt up, shouting angrily at Jiboree, “You leave him alone! I’m called Posy, an’ his name’s Uggo!”

Razzid signalled the weasel to stow his blade. He seemed amused by the hogmaid’s outburst.

“Posy, eh? Ain’t that a pretty name. So, yore the one who does the talkin’, Posy. Then you tell me about this place they calls Redwall Abbey.”

She shook her head. “I’m not from there, so I can’t tell you anything, Captain.”

Mowlag pointed at Uggo. “No, but I wager ’e can.” Shekra joined in encouragingly. “But of course ye can, Uggo. Look at yore friend Posy—she ain’t scared to speak to us.”

Uggo found his voice then. He blurted out, “I’m not scared. Aye, I’m from the Abbey o’ Redwall, but Posy isn’t, she’s never even seen the place.”

The vixen gently moved Uggo away from Razzid. She whispered casually to the Wearat, “Uggo fears you, Lord, but I think he’ll talk t’me.” She turned back to Uggo. “I’ve heard wonderful tales about Redwall. Wot’s it like, liddle friend?”

Uggo caught a warning glance from Posy, so he went back to being silent. Shekra did not seem unduly bothered. She smiled in a friendly manner.

“Let me tell you about Redwall, then, though I can only say wot I’ve heard, ’cos I’m like Posy—I’ve never been there. They say ’tis a beautiful place, all built from good red stone, very big an’ old. There’s everything there a creature could want, orchards full of ripe fruit an’ berries, an’ a pond, too, teemin’ with fish.”

Uggo could not contain himself from correcting Shekra. “The pond doesn’t teem with fishes. Friar Wopple says there’s a few trout an’ mebbe a greylin’ or two. But they don’t catch one, unless it’s an Abbot’s feast. An’ we don’t eat birds, or their eggs, or any livin’ creature—er, ’cept watershrimp for otters’ hotroot soup.”

Mowlag pulled a face. “If’n ye can’t eat eggs’n’birds, an’ fishes, it don’t sound like much of a place fer vittles. Don’t think I’d like ter live there!”

Uggo spoke eagerly in his Abbey’s defence. “But you’d love the vittles, an’ there ain’t no better cook in all Mossflower than Friar Wopple. She makes pies an’ soups, an’ pasties, an’ cakes, an’ trifles, an’ tarts, an’ deeper’n’ever turnip’n’tater’n’beetroot pie for the moles. Best food you’ve ever tasted. . . .” His voice trailed off as he saw Posy’s shaking head, telling him that he was talking too much.

Razzid dabbed at his leaking eye, surprising Uggo by agreeing with him. “Pay no ’eed to Mowlag. Yore Friar’s vittles sounds good t’me, Uggo. Aye, Redwall, eh? All that fruit, a nice pond fer a dip on a summer’s day. D’ye know, that’s why I’d like to visit there, just t’see it all!”

Uggo merely nodded. All the talk of his home had brought a lump to his throat.

Shekra took up the thread in a wheedling tone. “That’s right. We just want to pay a visit to Redwall Abbey. Mebbe you could show us the way?”

The young hedgehog sighed deeply. “But I don’t know the way. Mister Gurdy did, but he got drownded in the storm, I think. He knew the way.”

Razzid rose from his seat. He hauled on an iron ring set into the cabin deck. It opened a trapdoor to an ill-smelling rope locker. All the friendly manner gone from him, he pointed down. “Get in there, both of ye!”

Assisted by kicks from the corsairs, Uggo and Posy tumbled down into the locker. Holding the lid up, Razzid bared his teeth at them.

“I’ll leave ye to think. If’n ye still don’t give me an answer I like tomorrow, Uggo, then ye can bid goodbye to yer liddle friend Posy!”

The door above their heads slammed, leaving the pair in total darkness. Uggo felt as though he were in the pits of despair. A sob crept into his voice. “Oh, Posy, what’re we goin’ t’do? I don’t know the way to the Abbey. When I left there with Mister Gurdy ’twas the first time I could remember bein’ outside in Mossflower. I’m lost without ’im.”

The pretty hogmaid reached out in the darkness, finding Uggo’s paw. “Then we’ll have to think of something to tell this vermin Razzid.”

Uggo muttered hopelessly. “Huh, like wot?”

He winced as Posy tweaked his nose. She berated him angrily. “Like something that’ll save my life! Look, I know you’re frightened of the vermin—I am, too. But it’s no good sitting and moaning here. We’ve got to do something. Make a plan, try some sort of escape, anything except wait here to be slain!”

Her defiant spirit boosted Uggo’s nerve.

“Yore right, Posy. Wait, I’ve got an idea. Suppose I tell them I know the way to Redwall? That’d give us time to plan an escape from here.”

Posy considered it. “Hmm, sounds good, but how long could you keep fooling Razzid? He doesn’t seem a stupid vermin to me. As for escaping, there’s not much chance of getting out of here. It’s nought but a big cupboard, or that’s what it feels like.” She felt around. “We’re sitting on a heap of old rope. Wait, let’s get a better look.”

Standing up in the dark, she touched the trapdoor lid. “Get a piece of rope, not too thick. I’ll lift this door a touch, and you jam the rope in. Then we’ll try to get an idea of what this place is like. Let’s hope they’re not watching too closely.”

Thankfully, the door did not creak as Posy opened it a touch. Uggo fed the bit of rope between the tiny gap. It worked, allowing a small shaft of light to shine through from the cabin lanterns. Standing on tippaw, Uggo strained his head to one side, reporting what he could see.

“There’s only two of ’em there now. One lyin’ on the bunk, the other—the fox, I think—snoozin’ in a chair.”

Posy was exploring the rope locker. She replied in a whisper, “That must be the Razzid vermin on the bunk. This place is just a mess of old rope ends. Oh, just a moment, what’s this?”

Uggo was at her side swiftly. “Have ye found somethin’?”

Posy scratched the bulkhead with her pawnails. “Look, there’s been a fire here at some time. This wall hasn’t been fixed. . . . Great seasons, it’s a door!”

Uggo could see only a sliver of the bulkhead in the light. “How can ye tell it’s a door?”

There was a dull, metallic clunk, followed by the hogmaid’s explanation. “Because I’ve found the latch. It won’t open outward. We’ll have to shift some of this rope. Come on.”

They heaved frayed coils of sea-rotted ropes, cables, hawsers and rigging, piling them up to one side until a space was cleared. Uggo opened the door inward, holding his breath each time it made a creak or a scrape.

“Hope the vermin didn’t hear anythin’. What d’ye think?”

“Ssshhh, wait a while, just in case,” Posy cautioned him.

Moments ticked by as they stared through the open door into the darkness beyond. At last, Uggo relaxed. “They’re still asleep. Where d’ye suppose it leads to?”

Posy felt around the door. “I don’t know. . . .What’s this?” Moving back into the slim shaft of lantern light, she held up a sharp but well-worn wood chisel.

“The workbeasts must’ve left this behind when they were repairing the burn damage. It’ll do as a weapon, eh?” Bending his head, Uggo crawled through the doorspace. “Let’s see where this leads.”

Posy took a long piece of tough heaving line. “Wait—this should buy us a bit of time!”

There was a ring on the underside of the trapdoor flap. She doubled the rope to it and tied it tight to the latch hasp on the bulkhead door.

“There. They won’t open that in a hurry. Come!”

Uggo led the way, holding on to Posy with one paw and the chisel with the other. They went slowly and carefully, feeling their way with each step. Without a lamp, or any other illumination, it was difficult.

The way narrowed, then Uggo felt cold water washing around his footpaws. Not knowing they were in the bilges, he muttered fearfully, “Hope we’re not sinkin’. I can hear the waves from outside. Wish I knew wot way we’re goin’—it’s so flippin’ dark down here, an’ wet, too.”

His companion had been working things out.

“When we were taken to the captain’s cabin, I could see the water from the back window. I think we must be going toward the front of the ship, least I hope we are.”

Uggo raised his paw, scraping the woodwork over their heads with the chisel. He wiped ash from his eye. “More burnt wood, though this board feels a bit loose. Wot d’ye think, shall I try to lift it?”

Posy was in agreement. “Have a go, but be careful in case there’s anybeast nearby. Here, I’ll lend a paw. Gently now, Uggo. . . . Easy, easy.”

The board creaked slightly under their pressure, but the noise seemed to blend in with the usual sounds of a vessel at sea. When it was lifted enough, Uggo boosted Posy to take a view of their surroundings. After a quick peep, she dropped back down with some news.

“It’s open deck above us, near the front end of the boat—the bow, I think they call it. But there’s a vermin, one of those searats, about two paces from where we’ll come up. You take a look, see what you think.”

She assisted Uggo to peer out. He watched the searat for some time before dropping down.

“I think he’s supposed t’be on watch, but he’s leanin’ o’er the rail. From the sloppy way he’s loungin’, ’tis my wager that he’s fallen asleep on duty. Let’s try sneakin’ quietly out an’ hope he don’t notice us.”

The board groaned ominously as they pushed at it. Then it came loose suddenly, clattering over onto the deck. Uggo levered himself up, getting scratched by the scupper edge as he emerged to face a half-awake searat, turning to stare at him in bewilderment.

“Worra yew doin’ round ’ere, mate?”

Uggo swung hard, with the chisel clenched in his paw. The shock ran through him as his fist belted the vermin square on its chin. The searat collapsed to the deck, totally knocked out.

Posy was holding out a paw. “Hurry, Uggo, help me!”

He had to use one paw, the other being numbed by the force of the blow he had dealt. He was massaging the paw when the hogmaid hissed at him, “Never mind that now— we need someway to get off this ship. Take a good look around. . . . Here, what are these?”

Uggo shrugged. “I dunno—some kind o’ big arrows?”

Posy, all business now, ordered him briskly, “Get me some rope—hurry!”

Uggo cast around, coming up with a sounding line. She grabbed it and began binding the four thick shafts together. “This’ll have to do as a raft. Take one end, and we’ll throw it overboard. Move, Uggo!”

Grunting, he took an end of the thick bundle. “Which side do we chuck it o’er? I mean, which way is it to the land—I can’t see any, can you?”

Posy hesitated briefly, then decided. “Left, I think. Aye, left. One . . . two . . . heave!”

The bound arrow bundle hit the water with a splash that was followed by two lesser splashes as the young hedgehogs plunged into the sea after it.

There was a shout from the deck as the sleeping corsair at the tiller was wakened by the noise.

“Ahoy, wot’s goin’ on there?”

Holding on to the spearshafts in the sea, the two friends heard the crewbeast shuffling for’ard.

Uggo grabbed a matted fender hanging from the ship’s side. “If’n we push off for shore now, we’ll be spotted. I’ll hold us in here, under the bow!”

They clung under the hull’s curve, scarcely daring to breathe. On deck, the pawpads of the tillerbeast got closer to the prow. Posy heard the corsair, a weasel, speaking aloud to himself.

“Nah, then, wot’s goin’ on ’ere? Is dat you, Dirgo? Huh, yew’ve bin at the grog agin, aincha? Cap’n Razzid’ll feed yer guts t’the fishes if’n ’e catches yer rotten drunk an’ snoozin’ on watch. Cummon, mate, up ye come, I’ll git yer back t’the galley, out o’ the way.”

There followed some heaving and cursing, then the sound of the weasel staggering off under his senseless burden. Posy set her footpaws against Greenshroud’s hull. “Let’s push off and see if we can’t get a good distance away by daybreak.”

It was not as easy as they had first thought, hanging on to the bundle whilst kicking with their footpaws.

Uggo gritted his teeth in exasperation. “We’ve been paddlin’ for a bloomin’ age, an’ we don’t seem t’be goin’ anywhere. Look ’ow close the ship still is. We’re goin’ t’get caught soon.”

They drifted slightly further on a rising swell. Posy patted her friend’s paw reassuringly. “It feels like the tide’s turned. We’ll move quicker now.”

However, Uggo continued to pose problems. “If we’re travellin’ with the tide, it’s still no ’elp, Posy. The ship’ll follow us.”

The pretty hogmaid shook her head. “See that thick rope hanging from the back of the ship? It’s an anchor, to stop it drifting. Now paddle, mate!”

Posy was right. In the first streaks of grey dawn, they had gone a good distance. Uggo laid his head upon the arrowshafts.

“I’m dead tired. Got to ’ave a little sleep—just a doze, eh?”

But his companion would have none of it. “Now’s not the time to be sleeping. Keep going. We’ve got to get ashore, before those vermin find us missing!”

Uggo opened one eye, staring at the way ahead. “There ain’t no sign o’ land anywhere. We could be goin’ the wrong way—out t’sea, for all you know.”

Posy was beginning to lose her temper with Uggo. “We’re going the right way, I’m sure of it. Now, stop complaining and start paddling. Honestly, you really are the limit, Uggo Wiltud. Yeek, what’s that?”

The sea rose around them as something huge and black displaced the water. It had four shiny humps, and several fins. Moreover, it made the most awful noise.