Triss

Kurda beckoned a tall, grave-faced Ratguard to her side. Diss von, he is Vorto, mine new captainÑTell him!

Vorto saluted with his spear before reporting to Plugg. I saw it, a liddle boat, runnin’ fer those rocks, showin’ no sail. May’ap ‘tis moored behind the rocks, Cap’n.

Plugg turned, bringing his face close to the new officer and squinting into his eyes. Vorto, eh, you got a fair ole pair o’ peepers on ye.

Oh well, I’ll ‘ave to take ‘er in an’ scout the coast ‘til I finds a landmark. Tazzin, you steer ‘er landwards, but stop before those big reefs. I’ll be in me cabin, a-studyin’ the chart. Shout out when yore droppin’ anchor.

Kurda blocked Plugg’s way, gesturing with her sabre. You t’row down de anchor by de reefs, how ve get ashore?

The Freebooter pushed past her, heading for his cabin. Yore free to wade or swim, but if’n you stops playin’ wid that toy sword, I’ll let ye ride in the ship’s boat wid me. Slitty, make ready the jollyboat fer when we anchors.

From their cover in the rocks, Shogg and Triss watched the Seascab heading in a direct line for the outcrop. The otter shouldered the rolled-up sail. Cut an’ run, Triss, ‘tis all that’s left to us. We ain’t stoppin’ round ‘ere fer Kurda to practise ‘er sabre on us.

The squirrelmaid hefted a stone-tipped spear, part of the simple weaponry Bistort had left aboard for them. I wish I could stay and pay her back for murdering poor old Drufo. I’d give her the same chance she gave him. None!

Shogg weighed the bag of slingstones and the sling he had armed himself with. Aye, but there’s prob’ly a full crew o’ Freebooters an’ a pack o’ Ratguards with ‘er. We wouldn’t stand a chance, Triss. Right, we’d best move. Let’s go east an’ a touch north, keepin’ those rocks atween us an’ them so they don’t see us. Kurda will try to track us, ye can rely on it.

They set off at a brisk jog toward some dunes.

Kurda did not wait for Vorto to assist her. She leaped from the jollyboat and splashed off through the shallows toward the rocks. Plugg had brought Prince Bladd along with him but, when the Freebooter captain jumped overboard into the shallows, the fat young princeling kept his seat in the jollyboat’s centre.

I get mine paws vetted if I jump in dere, I not like vet paws!

Plugg shook his head in despair. Slitty, you ‘n’ Ripper give Prince slobberchops a lift ashore, an’ don’t get ‘is paws wet, ‘e don’t like it!

Vorto waited until all the Ratguards had waded ashore. Lining them up, he marched off to find the Princess.

Kurda was standing on the lee side of the rocks, leaning against the stolen boat, studying the pawprints that ran off toward the dunes. Vorto arrived with the Ratguards and saluted smartly.

The Princess smiled. Yarr, mine good Vorto, you vere right. Here is der ship, and der tracks, see!

Plugg came swaggering up with a few of his crew. He inspected the vessel, stroking its sides and patting the stern in admiration. The Freebooter liked what he saw.

Haharr, she’s an’andsome liddle beauty. The slaves who built this’n knowed wot they was doin’. Now then, yer’igh royalness, I wouldn’t be stannin’ gapin’ at those pawtracks all day, if’n I was you. This drizzle will soon wash’em out.

Kurda gave him a supercilious stare and drew her sabre. Tchah! You know about der sea, but I know all about der land. Vere is Riggan?

At Vorto’s command, a rat stepped forward. She was of wiry build, older than the rest, with a long nose and slitted eyes. Kurda’s sabre pointed to the fugitive tracks.

You can find dese creatures, yarr?

Riggan crouched and sniffed the prints. She rubbed a few grains of sand in one paw and licked them lightly. Find’em? Yer’ighness, Riggan can find’em as easy as findin’ vittles on a plate fer dinner!

The Pure Ferret smirked at the Freebooter Captain. Nobeast has ever escaped Riggan, She is mine father’s special slavecatcher. Dis rat can track a butterfly over de solid rocks. A drop of der drizzle vill not stop her!

Plugg’s voice oozed sarcasm as he answered. Ye don’t say? Now, ain’t that nice. Right ho, me beauty, you take yore rats off an’ play yore liddle’unting game. As fer me, well, I’m only a simple ole Freebooter.

I’ll’ave me crew cast about fer landmarks so we kin find this Mossflower place, while I stops’ere an’ polishes me new liddle boat up. May’aps ye’ll bring me’er sail back when you catches up wid those slavebeasts.

Now, be careful ye don’t rip it, I’m partickler about me property, eh, Slitty?

Slitfang grinned. Aye, very partickler, Cap’n!

But Kurda was not listening. She had set off with her Ratguards, slightly behind Riggan, who was travelling at a fast, easy lope over the wet sands.

Shogg and Triss headed east over the dunes, making for an outcrop of trees in the distance. The squirrelmaid got slightly ahead of her otter friend. She stopped and waited for him to catch up.

He hitched the bundle of sailcloth higher on his back. Runnin’ takes some gettin’ used to, matey, after all that sittin’ on me rudder in a boat fer long days. Let’s keep on goin’, me paws are beginnin’ to feel better now.

The land was mostly scrub grass, with patches of broom and thistle.

They ran steadily, side by side, with Shogg occasionally glancing back over his shoulder.

We don’t know if they’re on our trail or not. This drizzle should blur our tracks, Triss. I’ope it keeps up.

The squirrelmaid indicated the trees ahead. When we get to those, I’ll shin up one and scan the land.

Riggan did not stop or even pause to check the pawprints. She knew she was on the right trail.

Kurda clipped a thistle bloom with her blade edge. Vorto, ven ve find dem you do nothink, surround dem and leave der rest to me. I vill show dem how I deal mitt runavay slave thieves, long and slow I show dem, yarr!

Vorto could tell by the look in Kurda’s red eyes that she meant every word of it.

On reaching the tree fringe, Triss dropped her foodpack and went up the trunk of a sessile oak with all the skill of a born climber. Vaulting and swinging, she passed the middle branches and was soon up in the topmost boughs. Shogg craned his neck back and looked up to where she perched on a high limb.

Wot’s the word, mate, any signs o’ the vermin? His worst fears were confirmed as Triss called down, Aye, I can make out Kurda with about a score of Rat-guards coming this way fast. It looks like Riggan slave-catcher is leading themÑno wonder they got onto us so quick!

Shogg bit his lip with worry, Every slave at Riftgard knew the name and reputation of Agarnu’s relentless tracker. None had ever escaped Riggan.

’Tis bad news for us, mate. The only thing we can do is t’keep runnin’

until they’re so far from their ship that they gets tired o’ chasm’

us an’ turns back, maybe.

As Triss began climbing down the oak, she suddenly noticed another squirrel climbing alongside of her. He was a jolly-looking, fat beast, his shoulders crossed with webbing that was stuffed tight with hard green pinecones. She nodded to him; he nodded back and struck up a conversation.

So you’re going to run for it. Well, good luck to you, good luck, that’s what I always say.

Triss noticed that there were many more fat squirrels, all climbing down from neighbouring trees. She arrived back on the ground accompanied by roughly fifty of the creatures.

Shogg bowed politely.

Good day to ye, friends!

The one who had spoken to Triss was obviously their leader. He shook rainwater from his huge bushy tail. Good, what’s good about it? Nothing good about sitting up in a tree getting drenched, that’s what I always say!

Now that she knew the squirrels meant them no harm, Triss felt a lot more at ease with them. She spoke to the leader. I’m sorry for trespassing in your wood, but we’ll be gone right away. Sorry we can’t stop to talk.

Tossing up a pinecone and catching it without even looking at it, the squirrel remarked, No hurry. I’m Whurp, Chieftain of the Coneslingers.

You don’t have to run if you prefer walking, that’s what I always say.

He tossed the pinecone high, shook paws with them both, and caught the cone before it fell. Triss was impressed.

I’m Triss, and my friend’s called Shogg. We really do have to go, Whurp.

There’s not much use walking with those Ratguards hard on our paws.

We need to run.

Whurp tossed his pinecone, batted it with his tail and caught it one-pawed as it bounced off the sessile oak. Oh, don’t fuss yourself about a few rats, Triss, we can snarl them up here for a good while.

You and Shogg follow my daughter Burnby, she’ll lead you through the woods and out the other side. We’ll see to the rats for you. Rats are bad creatures, that’s what I always say.

Shogg noticed the thong wound about Whurp’s paw. I see ye carry slings.

What d’ye throw from them, cones?

Whurp tossed the cone he was toying with to Shogg. Aye, cones just like that one, good and hard, quite sharp, too. They wouldn’t kill a beast, we’re not in the business of slaying any creature. Only use them in defence of our territory, that’s what I always say.

Shogg took out his pouch of slingstones from Peace Island. These are some stones I was given to use by a friend, far across the seas from here.

Whurp took the pouch and opened it, pouring forth into his paw the bluey-green, sharp-edged stones. His eyes lit up. From far across the seas you say, Shogg. Wonderful, beautiful treasures like these, and you waste them by throwing them away with your sling? Never throw away precious things, that’s what I always say!

He passed the pouch back carefully, but Shogg refused it. Keep ‘em, mate, as a gift from us. Look, we’ve really got t’go now. Nice meetin’

ye, Whurp.

As Burnby led them off through the trees, Whurp called out, Goodbye, friends, and good fortune go with you. I can’t thank you enough for these stones. The Coneslingers will treasure them forever. A treasure of great worth is a treasure worth treasuring, that’s what I always say!

Burnby took Triss’s paw, giving her a quiet smile. I could tell you other things that my dad always says, but I’d need ten seasons to do it.

Triss squeezed her paw. Thank you for your help, but can your dad really stop the Ratguards?

Burnby plucked a grass stalk and chewed on it. Ask yourself, Triss.

Did you see us when you entered our forest? Did you even know all of us were watching you? Coneslingers are invisible when they want to beÑwe can defend our wood against any number. Shogg, follow behind me. Watch that willow branch, don’t touch it!

When the otter saw the thin cord holding a whippy branch strained in an arc, he understood. Haharr, a trap, eh, that’d soon stop anybeast who didn’t see it. A good idea, Burnby

She nodded. That’s why you must follow directly in my trail. These woods are full of such traps, pits, catapults, nooses. But those rats won’t be bothered by them.

Shogg looked puzzled. Why’s that, mate?

Burnby chuckled. Because my dad won’t even let them get this far. Never let the foebeast enter your homeÑ

Triss interrupted. That’s what he always says!

Their laughter echoed through the trees as they strolled in leisurely fashion through the Coneslingers’ wood.

Riggan halted at the tree fringe. Kurda came hurrying up with Vorto and the Ratguards.

Dey go in dere, yarr?

The slavetracker inspected the ground, then peered up into the trees, sniffing the air suspiciously. Aye, yore’igh-ness, they’ve gone inter these woods, but there’s summat I don’t like about this place. I ain’t put me paw on it yet, but I’ll find out.

She took a pace into the trees ... and found out. Three iron-hard green pinecones hit Riggan, one on the head, another on the paw, and a third in the throat. She toppled over, senseless.

Immediately the Ratguards threw themselves flat. Vorto placed himself in front of Kurda, shielding her. Some-beast up in the trees is attackin’

us, marm!

Kurda signalled as she backed off. Archers, shoot arrows at dem, slay der beasts!

Four Ratguards set shafts to their bows. The first one fired off at a shape high in the trees.

Kurda popped her head up from where she was crouching. Gutt, dat teach dem!

Half an arrow, the pointed part, nicked her paw, and she yelped. Yowch!

Vot happen?

The archer gasped in amazement at what he had seen. Marm, somebeast up there in that tree,’e caught me arrer an’ snapped it in arf,’e’s throwin’ it back! He ducked as the feathered half bounced off his ear.

Vorto whispered orders to four Ratguards. Crawl out an’ git Riggan back’ere. We need’er.

The four began to crawl forward, but were peppered so hard with green cones that they were forced to shuffle backward, their shoulders, backs and behinds smarting furiously. His paws numbed by two more flying cones, Vorto dashed off to a small rise in the ground where Kurda was crouching.

Yore’ighness, I think we’d better retreat!

The flat of Kurda’s blade whacked him in the midriff. Retreat? Vot you t’ink I am? De Princess of Riftgard does not run from sillybeasts who t’row pinecones. Ve stay here and teach dem lesson for insolence!

She poked her head up and screeched angrily, You hear dat, ve teach you der le ... Unkhh!

A particularly fine specimen of the fir tree whacked solidly down between the Pure Ferret’s ears, stunning her. This was followed by a matter-of-fact voice calling out, Sorry, could you repeat that? I don’t understand what ÔUnkhh’ is supposed to mean. State your intentions clearly, that’s what I always say!

Burnby led Triss and Shogg out at the far side of the trees that marked the Coneslingers’ domain. She gestured eloquently at the open lands.

There, my friends, you may go whichever way you please, I must return now and lend a paw to pin your foes down for a while. I’m rather looking forward to it. Bye bye! She sprang up into the trees and was instantly gone.

The two friends waved, not knowing whether Burnby could see them.

Goodbye, and thank you for your help! Triss called. Well, what do you make of that? What an easy escape! Burnby couldn’t wait to get back to a bit of cone slinging. You’d never think it to look at herÑsuch a quiet, pretty maid, so reserved and well-mannered, but so warlike!

Shogg fluttered his eyes. Aye, a bit like meself: quiet, well-mannered, pretty. Ouch! Mind that speartip, mate!

Triss chuckled. Come on, you rogue, which way now?

The drizzle had stopped, and sunlight was peeping out from between the clouds. Shogg shaded his eyes, gazing around.

See that dip over there? I’m bettin’ there’s a stream run-nin’ through it. So ‘ere’s wot I think we should do. We’ll get our paws wet, follow the stream west. They’re bound to get away sooner or later. Riggan’ll pick up our tracks, ye can rely on that. But she’ll only trail us as far as the stream, then she ‘as a choice.

As they made their way to the dip, Triss echoed Shogg’s words. A choice.

How do you mean?

The otter gave a sly wink and explained. Riggan’s choice is simple, mate. Which way did we go after enterin’ the water, west or east? Now ask yoreself, which way d’you suppose two runaways would go? East an’

inland, or west an’ back t’the sea, where there’s a Freebooter ship loaded with vermin who’d slay ye as soon as look at ye, eh?

The otter’s canny scheme dawned on Triss. Of course! She’ll head east, that’s the sensible choice. You mightn’t be pretty and reserved, but you’ve got a shrewd head on your shoulders, mate. Come on.

Shogg’s guess proved right. There was a thin stream winding through the dip, and it was quite shallow. They proceeded carefully, trying hard not to leave any telltale traces that the slavecatcher could follow.

Both fugitives hoped fervently that Whurp and his tribe of Coneslingers would keep Kurda and her Ratguards pinned down for a long while: the longer the better, for the survival of Triss and Shogg depended upon it.

22

Memm Flackery and Sister Vernal sat on two chairs close to the Abbey doors in Great Hall. A trolley served as their table. On it was toasted bread, a jar of comb honey, the first of that summer’s strawberries, and a steaming pot of dandelion tea.

The Harenurse yawned. Rotten old storm, hope we don’t get another this season. There was one time last night when I thought the bloomin’ roof was comin’ in, the way that blinkin’ thunder sounded! She munched listlessly on her thick, honeyed toast.

Sister Vernal stopped herself from nodding off and blinked owlishly.

Up on our paws all night, with crying Dibbuns and others who wouldn’t come down from the windows because they wanted to watch the lightning.

Dearie me, I’m exhausted.

Boom boom! Bangybangybang! Boobooboooom!

A herd of shrieking little ones dashed past, followed by Ruggum, Roobil and Turfee mousebabe, who were chasing them, pretending to be stormdogs.

Memm and Vernal covered their ears.

Boombangeeboom! I’m a t’under comin’ to getcha! Boom!

Little Dibbun maids squealed, running in circles with their aprons thrown up over their faces. Yeeeek, it’s a storm!

Turfee waved two long cornstalks. He was the lightning. Tish! Flash!

Tish! Tish! I burn you tails off. Tish!

Memm collared him as he dashed past for the third time. Sitting the mousebabe on her lap, she popped a strawberry into his mouth. Be still, y’little bounder. Chew on that an’ keep quiet, wot!

Immediately she was surrounded by Dibbuns, clamouring aloud, Wanna strawbee! Gimme strawbees, Memm!

Bo urr, oi’m gurtly’ungered for strawbees, marm!

You nebber sayed pleeze. Can I hab a strawbee, pleeze!

Memm and Vernal emptied the bowl as they dished strawberries to the open-mouthed infants. Vernal threw up her paws wearily. Go and play now, they’re all gone!

Ruggum folded his paws defiantly and faced up to her. Urr miz, uz be a goin’ to ee h’orchard an’ picken more!

Memm fixed him with her severest Harenurse stare. Oh, no you don’t, young sah, you’re not to go outside, any of you. It’s drizzlin’ heavy out there. Go an’ play!

Ruggum held his ground, returning her stare with what he thought was his fierce moleface. Ho, do ee say so, marm, well let oi tell ee. Grizzle doant bee’s a botheren us’n’s, we’m gurt tuff h’aminals, burr aye!

Memm moved her chair so that its back was against the door. She wagged a warning paw under Ruggum’s snout. Well, tough or not, you ain’t gettin’

by me, master Rug-gum, so you can go off into the corner an’ bally well grizzle about that. Now, that’s my final word on the subject. Wot!

Ahem, permission to get by, marm, if’n ye please!

Memm looked up to see Skipper and Log a Log standing there. The otter Chieftain and the Guosim leader were heavily armed. Skipper carried a sling and stone pouch, a newly tipped javelin and the sword of Martin across his back. Log a Log carried a sling and pouch alongside his shrew rapier, with a small bow and quiver of arrows in addition.

Ruggum snatched up one of Turfee’s cornstalks. Oi bee’s a cummen too, zurrs!

Log a Log whipped out his rapier and pointed at the stairs leading down to Cavern Hole. He yelled urgently, A big rat with a bag of strawberries just ran down there. We can’t’ave that, can we? Get’im!

Whooping and roaring, the Dibbuns tore off in pursuit of the imaginary villain. Memm moved her chair and opened the door to allow them outside.

Isay, old lad, that was pretty crafty, wot. Don’t suppose you’d like to stay indoors an’ entertain a flippin’ herd of wild infants. Vernal an’ I could get a bit o’ shuteye.

Skipper touched his rudder politely. Sorry, marm, we got other business to attend.

Vernal watched the two warriors heading for the main gates. Business to attend, hmm, wonder where they’re off to?

Skipper and Log a Log made rapid progress into Moss-flower, unburdened by cloaks and wearing only short tunics. They conversed little, each keeping well-trained ears and eyes on their surroundings as they pressed on through the trees. There were no unusual sounds, just the steady drip of rainwater from leaf, bush and fern. Skipper nodded at an old aspen tree on the edge of a small clearing. It had been broken in half, pale sappy wood showing white against its green background. Log a Log noted it, pointing briefly at the sky and making a quick moonlike circle with one paw. Both knew that the tree had been brought down by lightning in the previous night’s storm.

Reaching the point where they had been attacked by the crows, they halted.

Now they spoke, keeping their voices very low and standing close together.

No crows t’day, Skip, must’ve moved on to better shelter.

Aye, mate, I don’t smell nothin’ odd, like the Abbot said Crikulus was talkin’ about in’is sleep. Let’s listen.

The otter and the shrew stood still, only their eyes moving as they honed in their keen senses to the woodlands. However, neither could feel anything amiss.

Log a Log spoke. Best split up, Skip. You go this way, I’ll go yonder.

Give a cuckoo call if ye find anythin’.

They went their separate ways like two silent smoke wraiths.

Skipper was casting about close to a massive old oak when he came across some familiar objects: the cloaks and lanterns belonging to Malbun and Crikulus. The big otter did not disturb them. Bending low, he sniffed his find, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Cuck-oo! Cuck-oo!

Treading carefully, he moved off in the direction of Log a Log’s call.

Pointing to broken nettles and ferns, the shrew Chieftain nodded northward.

Two beasts, runnin’ hard. Storm never made these tracks!

Skipper inspected some blurred dents in the ground. Rain’s ruined these prints, but I’d guess they was made sometime yesterday, by the water that’s collected in’em. Let’s foller an’ see who’s makin’ the pawprints.

Broken shrubbery, disturbed loam, scratched earth and torn-off leaves were simple to see. No storm could have left such a clear, narrow pattern.

Now that the drizzle had stopped, sunrays cast a mottle of light and shade over the still waters of a peaceful stream, drifting through the woodlands. Pale blue smoke twined lazily upward from a small fire on the bank. The remains of four ruddfish lay amid some half-eaten pears in the smouldering ashes. The two stoats, Burgogg and Wicky, sprawled on the bank, footpaws dabbling in the shallows as they picked their teeth with the ruddfish bones. Burgogg smiled contentedly and belched.

Wicky flicked a fishbone at him. Beggin’ yore pardon! Burgogg shot him a quizzical glance. Why, what’ve yer done?

Wicky shook his head at the other’s ignorance. That’s wot yer supposed t’say after doin’ that.’Aven’t yew got no manners at all?

Burgogg belched again. No, enny’ow, who needs manners? I never begged nobeast’s pardon in me life. Let’em go an’ pardon theirselves! He giggled.

I think we should stay’ere ferever. Those daft fishes’ave been swimmin’

right up to us since we been on this spot. Plenty o’ pears, too. Old Kligger liked a pear, y’know, very partial to pears’e was. Yowch!

Wicky swished a willow withe back for another stroke. Wot’ve 1 told yer, eh? Shut yer gob about Kligger, d’yew’ear me, shuttit! One more word about KliggÑ

Skipper’s sling was around Wicky’s neck like a strangling noose. Log a Log bounded lightly down onto the bank and put the tip of his rapier against Burgogg’s nose. The helpless stoat wailed miserably.

We wasn’t trackin’ nobeast! We was goin’ to break camp an’ keep goin’

north, wasn’t we, Wicky?

Trying to ease the sling around his neck, Wicky gasped, Burgogg’s right, we wasn’t doinarm to anybeast, sir. You ain’t got no reason ter slay us!

Skipper loosened the noose a touch and growled, Two things can save yore lives, vermin. One, where’s yore mate gone to? There was three of ye. An’ two, wot were ye run-nin’ from? Speak, or die!

He tightened the sling again. Wicky yelled in a hoarse voice, Awright, awright, I’ll tell yer if’n yew let me breathe!

Skipper slacked the sling off. Now talk.,.. Fast! Wicky massaged his neck and began talking, his voice a low whisper. His eyes darted from side to side, as if watching for some terrible thing to come bounding out of the woodlands at him.

It was after yew let us go yisterday. We staggered along fast as we could wid our paws bound t’gether. When we couldn’t run no more, we found a quiet liddle spot to sit an’ bite through the ropes wid our teeth. Ole Kligger went off, foragin’ fer vittles, an’ I found a couple o’ cloaks an’ some lantings. I tell ye, though, there was an awful smell round that glade, a frightenin’ smell. It was like ... like death an’

rottin’ things, but sickly sweet.... Wicky hugged himself and shuddered.

Skipper prodded him, Go on, vermin, spit it out!

Burgogg blurted out as if he could not control himself. Wicky wuz goin’

ter give Kligger a cloak an’ a lanting. Then we’eard the pore beast screamin’. I’ve’eard lots o’ creatures scream afore, but none like that, sir. None! So we dashed round ter see wot trouble our mate was in. It was worse’n a nightmare, I tell ye! There was this big fat ole oak tree, see, wid a liddle door in it, an’ the door was open, an’, an’ ... ugghh, it was’orrible! Hugging himself, he closed his eyes and mouth tightly.

It was obvious that he would not talk further.

Log a Log gave Skipper a quick wink. Leaning across, he unwound the sling from Wicky’s throat and patted him sympathetically. Come on now, me old mate. We want to let you two go, but ye must tell us first. What did you see inside that tree door? Wot’appened to yore pore shipmate?

Wicky sat wide-eyed, staring straight ahead, as if he could see the sight clearly in front of him. It was a three-’eaded dragon, hissin’

an’ makin’ noises like it was fightin’ wid itself. The middle’ead’ad ahold of Kligger, an’ the two’eads either side was tuggin’ an’ rippin’

at’im! That smell, the screams, I’ll’ear them fer the rest o’ me days, sir!

Wicky broke down, sobbing and weeping. Skippergrabbed the stoat and shook him like a rag, roaring at him, A dragon, are ye mad? Wot did it look like?

The stoat managed to gasp out between clattering teeth, It wuz all coils’n’scales, with three ‘eads, sir. But the middle ‘ead was the worst.

Bigger’n the other two, with four eyes, two black an’ two green. It

‘ad big golden ‘orns on its ‘ead. I take me oath it did!

Burgogg wailed out in panic, Wicky’s right, sir, that’s just ‘ow it looked. Oh please let us go, sir, don’t ask us t’go back there an’ take ye to the spot!

Skipper stood up, winding the sling around his paw. Ye’ve no need to.

Come on, Log, I know where the place is!

Log a Log kicked the two stoats upright. Put that fire out an’ run for yore lives!

Wicky and Burgogg kicked earth over the smouldering fire.

Thankee, sir, we’re goin’, thankee kindly!

Aye, we don’t wanna see Mossflower agin, ever. Thankee!

Noon was running to long shadows as Skipper and Log a Log approached the glade where the cloaks and lanterns lay. Both drew their swords and crept silently forward. Suddenly the sunlit afternoon woodlands had become a place laden with menace.

Log a Log’s nose twitched, and the shrew blenched. Good grief, d’ye smell that?

Skipper did. Then he heard the grass rustling, slowly at first, then speeding up and becoming faster as it got closer to them.

Log a Log grabbed his friend’s paw and dashed off, away from the hidden terror, all his instincts telling him not to stop, but to run. Throwing caution to the winds, he shouted at Skipper, Quick, mate, or we’re deadbeasts! Run for it!

The otter ran then, but as he did he chanced a swift backward glance and saw what was hunting them. The sight lent wings to his flight. Seizing Log a Log, he bounded forward, pulling the shrew along so fast that at times his footpaws lost contact with the ground.

Long after the danger had passed and the hunter had quit pursuing them, they were still running, out onto the path and down toward the ancient Abbey reflecting the first evening light from its warm-hued sandstone bulk. Toward Redwall, home and safety to all who dwelt therein.

23

That night, after the Dibbuns had gone up to their beds, all able-bodied Redwallers gathered in Cavern Hole to hear Skipper speak. Grave-faced, the big otter faced his audience. He pointed a paw dramatically, Out there in Mossflower Woods is a great danger. Ye can believe me’cos I saw it for meself this very day. I know we smiled a bit when Hddle Ruggum said that’e saw a monster serpent an’ a white ghost, but I believes’e was tellin’ the truth, after wot I saw with me own two eyes.

As he paused, Memm called out, Then tell us, what did you jolly well see?

Urged on by Log a Log’s nod, Skipper told them. Three of the biggest adders I ever’opes t’see, but all twisted together like one beast. The biggest was the middle one, an’ I knows this is’ard to believe, but it was wearin’ a great golden crown with two big black jetstones set in the front. At first glance it looked like it had four eyes. Never seen anythin’ like it in me life, anope I never do again, mates.’Twas somethin’ you wouldn’t expect t’see, even in a bad dream!

In the shinned silence that followed Skipper’s words, Malbun held up the heavy gold pawring, with its two jetstones glimmering in the lantern lights.

Did the crown on the serpent’s head look anything like this?

The otter nodded. Aye, save that the crown was many times bigger, an’

the stones were, too. But it matches the crown, shore enough, marm.

The Abbot shook his head in awe. It sounds very scary!

Log a Log was glad that their incredulous story was getting home. He glanced around at the Redwallers’ fearful faces. Oh,’tis scary all right.

We know that it ate one o’ those stoats who attacked Malbun an’ ole Crikulus. The other two told me’n’Skipper that the vermin’s screams was like nothin’ they’d ever’card. I never ran from any-beast in me life, an’ neither’as Skipper, ye all know that. But this thing, the smell, the speed it came after us! Make no mistake,’tis a great an’

terrifyin’ evil!

Seeing that the Abbot wanted to take the floor, Log a Log and Skipper stood to one side. Apodemus raised a warning paw. Now you have all heard, so I am going to issue the strictest orders. Nobeast is to leave the Abbey!

He stared pointedly at Malbun and Crikulus before continuing. Skipper will organise a wallguard. You must all take your turn at watching from the battlements. But more important, keep a sharp eye on the grounds inside. I do not want to hear that Dibbuns have been trying to get out by the wallgates, or any other possible exit. Memm, will you and Sister Vernal take a headcount of the Abbeybabes twice daily?

The Harenurse saluted. Yes sah, double roll call, got it!

After the meeting dispersed, Abbot Apodemus took a stroll around the orchard, in company with Log a Log, Skipper, Crikulus and Malbun. The otter Chieftain felt it was his duty to voice an opinion.

Father Abbot, you gave good counsel back there. We’ll all be safe, long as we stays inside an’ keeps watch. But there is danger out there, sir, an’ we won’t make it go away by’idin’ from it. Somethin’ needs t’be done.

Apodemus spread his paws expressively, Aye, but what?

They stood in the evening scent of blossom and fruit, listening to a blackbird’s melodious warble, pondering the question. Log a Log was first to break the silence.

Is the old tawny owl still around?

Crikulus pulled a wry face. Aye, he’s taken to the beam below my gatehouse ceiling, Ovus isn’t much trouble, except that you can’t leave food lying about when he’s near.

Log a Log agreed. Worse’n a hare, some owls. Could you tell Ovus we want t’see him? I think an owl’s wisdom might ‘elp.

Looking a bit grumpy, the tawny owl waddled into the orchard behind Crikulus. He blinked several times and swivelled his head at them.

I missed supper, y’know. Not good for the digestion, missing supper.

Well, what is it?

Log a Log gallantly offered a paw for the owl to rest his wing upon.

Come on, mate, we’ll find ye somethin’ in the kitchens. But tell me first, d’you know any thin’ about gettin’ rid of adders?

The owl’s black eyes widened. Hmph! You don’t get rid of adders. What you do is stay away from them, make your home in another place. Leave adders alone, don’t mess with them!

It was not a solution that pleased the Abbot. But suppose you cannot, or don’t want to, move away. What happens then, pray tell?

Ovus waited as Skipper opened the Abbey door for him. If you stay put, then the adders will find you, sooner or later. Those reptiles are totally evil. They’re great hunters, too, and can range far and wide.

I say move, that’s the best and safest way of staying alive.

Skipper snorted. ’Tis out o’ the question, mate. Is there no other way?

Ovus paused on the top step of the kitchen. Hmmm, strawberry and redcurrant turnover, can’t mistake that gorgeous smell. Hope there’s plenty left.

Skipper blocked the owl’s path. I asked ye if there was any other way!

Abruptly the tawny owl snapped, Bluddbeak, I suppose!

Ovus would speak no more until he had despatched a large turnover. The Abbot’s gesture signalled them all to be patient until the owl had finished eating. He picked a few crumbs from his talons and sighed.

Ahhh, that’s much better. Ahem, now about Bluddbeak. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him. Big old red kite, lives nor’west in the mountains, a goodly way off. Suppose that’s why you don’t know him. Anyhow, if anybeast can take care of adders, then Bluddbeak is the bird.

Malbun found another turnover that had been left cooling on a stone slate. She pushed it in front of Ovus. Could you find Bluddbeak and bring him to Redwall?

Again they had to wait whilst the owl ate his turnover. Then Ovus began making his demands for the task.

Skipper took the first watch on the walltops with Churk, the hefty young female otter. He told her of what had taken place in the kitchens. Churk leaned on a battlement, watching the night-cowled woodlands, shaking her head in disbelief.

A day afore he can make the trip, ye say? Cheeky old featherbag. I’d

‘ave sent that owl packin’ tonight, Skip!

Skipper rested his chin on the wallstones. Ovus ain’t hurryin’ fer nobeast. Says ‘e’s got to feed ‘imself up fer such a long flight. Huh, an’ the load o’ vittles ‘e wants t’take with ‘im. A fruitcake, two mushroom-an’-carrot pasties, a bag o’ candied chestnuts, a whoppin’

slab o’ cheese, an’ a big flask of greensap milk mixed with clear honey, if ye please!

Churk could not resist a chuckle at the owl’s gluttony.

Carryin’ that lot, I think Ovus’ll’ave to walk all the way! Skipper shrugged. I think the Abbot’s far too soft wid that bird, but’e agreed with everythin’.

Zassaliss was the biggest and oldest of the three adders. His brother Harssacss and his sister Sesstra were bound forever to him, not just by family blood, but also by the mace and chain of King Sarengo. Long seasons ago, when all three were young, the Pure Ferret Ruler and his crew of Ratguards had invaded the vipers’ home. The attack had been brief but terrible. Their mother, the great snake Berrussca, had met Sarengo head-on, knocking the iron mace and chain from his paws and engaging him in a struggle to the death. The mace was a fearsome weapon, with a metal bar handle, an iron chain flail, and a spiked iron ball.

Berrussca’s three children were hardly half grown. Huddling together in the cavern beneath the oak, they hissed venomously and struck out at the Ratguards surrounding them. Flailing through the melee, the discarded mace and chain wrapped itself about their writhing tails.

Screams of stricken rats rent the gloomy air of Brockhall as the three young snakes struck again and again. Only six rats and Sarengo’s fat, terrified son Agarnu managed to scramble out with their lives.

King Sarengo fought like a madbeast. Weaponless and trapped in the giant coils of Berrussca, the Pure Ferret sunk his teeth into the adder’s spine, just below the skull. He hung on, hoping for rescue by his son and the Ratguards, but it never came. Sarengo died of wounds from the viper’s poison fangs. Berrussca died, too, her spine broken by Sarengo’s clenched teeth.

When it was all over, the three young vipers, Zassaliss, Harssacss and Sesstra, lay exhausted, the cruel weight of Sarengo’s mace and chain embedded in their tails. The more they struggled, the worse it bit into their bodies. It was many days before they could move. Exerting hisgreater strength and authority over the other two, Zassaliss forced them to coordinate their movements until all three moved as one.

The brood of Berrussca learned to grow, to hunt and survive together, and Zassaliss took Sarengo’s crown for himself. Now fully matured adders, they were the terror of every creature unfortunate enough to behold them. They were cold, swift, poisonous and deadly. Killers three, with none to oppose their ever-widening territory.

The dreadful trio slithered together through the night-dark woodlands, their tongues flickering as they used them to quest the air for prey.

Separated, they might have been totally silent, but joined in unison the adders could not prevent the swish of grass caused by their dragging tails and the mace handle constantly trailing behind them. However, their combined speed and ferocity proved a deadly combination.

An old crow soon found this out to its cost. The bird, who had injured its wing and could not follow its kin, stood dozing on a low-dipping hawthorn branch. The crow heard the rustling grass far too late. Sesstra tugged the slender tree limb, toppling the ancient bird down into the gaping mouths of her two brothers. She joined them speedily, eager not to miss her share of the quarry.

Rigid with terror, the crow stared up at three pairs of eyes peering down at it.

Sssssleep, do not sssssquawk or sssscreech!

Ssssssleep in sssssilence and darknessssss!

Do not dissssssturb otherssssss, we need to hunt more thissssss night!

24

Dawn’s first pale light washed gently in over a calm sea. A lone gull’s plaintive call echoed to the opening day. Scarum sat at the tiller taking dogwatch, the shortest duty, as darkness gave way to light. The incorrigible young hare eyed his two companions, sleeping in the bows with the ship’s rations between them. In the hope of waking Sagax and Kroova to make breakfast, as he was not allowed to touch the food, Scarum began composing a ditty and singing it aloud: O the life of a handsome young hare is sad, Jolly sad, believe you me,

With two rotten measly grubswipin’ mates, He sails the bloomin’ sea.

He’s considered rude if he begs for food, Tut tut, that’s far too bad.

He’s bossed by an otter who’s nought but a rotter, An’ a badger well known as a cad!

Sing hey fol dee dee, sail hither an’ there, Spare a tear for a famished young hare.

If this hare should die, would his comrades cry?

Wot wot, fat chance I’d say,

They’d cook skilly’n’duff, laugh hearty an’ rough, Scoff pudden an’ chortle all day.

As for that pitiful, starved-to-death chap, Why, they’d toss him over the side,

Where a rotten great shark, just for a lark, Would be waitin’ with mouth open wide!

Sing hey fol dee doh, through storm an’ bad fogs, Just look at ‘em snorin’ like hogs.

So all you jolly young handsome hares,

Pay heed to my sad tale.

Beware those blinkin’ bounders who want

To take you for a sail.

They’ll snigger an’ whoop, as your poor ears droop, An’ make flamin’ insultin’ remarks,

Just bid ‘em farewell, an’ hop into the sea.

You’re far better off with the sharks!

Sing hey fol dee doh, I’ve still got my pride, So ignore me ‘cos I’ve just died!

Kroova opened one eye and nudged Sagax. I ‘ope ole Scarum means that.

At least we’ll get a bit o’ peace!

Sagax replied with both eyes still closed, No such luck, mate, he’s too hungry to die. Oh well, we’d better get up and see about breakfast.

Anything to report, Scarum? Disasters at sea, ships in the night?

The mention of breakfast had cheered the hare up considerably. What, er, oh, not a confounded thing, just the bally usual. Water, water an’

more flippin’ water, wot! I say, I’ll bet that jolly good sleep you’ve had is makin’ you feel a bit peckish. What d’you say 1 make brekkers, eh, wot?

Put one paw near that grub an’ I’ll chop it off! Scarum stuck out his tongue at Kroova. No y’won’t, ‘cos then I wouldn’t be able to steer!

Sagax was about to start preparing the breakfast when Kroova’s sharp eyes caught a dark mass on the eastern horizon. The otter yelled out in fine nautical fashion, Land ho! Take ‘er bow east, matey!

Scarum managed to turn his eyes from the food. Wot, er, righto, me old messmate, me salty seadog, er, er, bow east it is, shipmate!

The otter sighed wearily as he retrieved the tiller from the jaunty hare. Yore ‘eadin’ out t’sea, bow east is the other way. Go an’ do somethin’ else, I’ll take ‘er in.

This did not diminish Scarum’s happy mood a whit. Do somethin’ else, right ho/ Cap’n. Shall I bail out the bilges or scuttle the masthead, wot? I say, perhaps I’ll lend a paw an’ help me old messymate Sagax with brekkers! The badger stowed the rations back under the bow seat.

Breakfast will have to wait until we make land, so forget your stomach and help me to look out for reefs.

Scarum’s long ears wilted. He sat in the bows staring down into the clear blue water, muttering, Forget about breakfast, the very idea!

First shark that comes along can have me. Huh, providin’ sharks like scoffin’ thin, sickly-lookin’ chaps!

As they drew closer to the coast, Sagax could feel excitement beginning to bubble up within. I can see a stream running out across the shore, coming right through those woodlands and out of the hills. Do you think we’ve reached Mossflower country, Kroova? The otter grinned triumphantly. I certainly do, mate! Scarum set the craft rocking to and fro as he leaped up and down on the bows in a victory jig.

Well hey ho and a nonny no, good old us, wot? We finally made it, chaps, the land of scoff’n’honey. Hoorah! Sagax grabbed the leaping hare by his tailscut. Keep bouncing about like that and you’ll capsize us. I’ll watch the water. If you want to use some energy up, go and furl the sails. Take them down completely and roll ‘em up. We’ll need them to make a shelter.

Scarum’s attempts at sail-furling were pathetic. He tugged the sternsail down on his head, enveloping himself. Sagax and Kroova exchanged winks as they watched the mass of sailcloth wriggling about.

They joshed him:

That’s the stuff, mate, fold it nice’n’neat now.

You can tell Scarum’s a trained seabeast. Wish I could furl a sail like thatÑyou’d think he was born to it!

The parcel of canvas sprouted lumps as Scarum tried madly to extricate himself from his prison. Yaaagh, gemme out, you fiends, it’s dark in here. Come on, you dreadful rotters, help a chap out. Don’t you dare make breakfast until I get m’self free of this lot. Gurrrr!

Midmorning saw the ketch Stopdog glide smoothly into the stream’s outflow. Kroova dismantled the bow seat, and together he and Sagax began paddling the craft upstream, across the shore.

Scarum had finally managed to extricate himself from the clutches of the sail. He folded it carefully, muttering darkly against life’s injustices. Might’ve bally well smothered in there, huh, a lot those two would care. Almost half blinkin’ well through the day and food hasn’t passed my perishin’ lips. Next time I go t’sea it’ll be with a fat duck an’ a jolly frog, wot!

The Stopdog’s keel ground to a halt on the sandy streambed.

Kroova shipped his makeshift oar. That’s as far as she’ll go until the evenin’ tide washes up this way an’ deepens these shallows. Away, boat’s crew mates, all ashore that’s goin’ ashore!

Sagax was first overboard. He took a deep drink from the streamwaterÑit was fresh, though slightly sun-warmed. He drove a stake into the sand and moored the ketch to stop her being washed seaward.

Kroova gathered driftwood from the tideline and set about lighting a fire with flint and tinder. Soon they had a camp pitched on the dry sands, with an awning of sailcloth and a concoction of supplies bubbling merrily away over the fire.

Sagax sat under the shade of the awning, facing landward. The warm umber sands gave way to high hills topped with grass and backed by thick woodland. It was a pretty sight on a bright summer’s morn.

They had relented and allowed Scarum the position of cook. He was throwing ingredients willy-nilly into the pot and gurgling happily.

Just wait’ll you chaps taste this. Ooch! It’s a bit hot right now, but delicious all the same, wot. Even though one says it oneself, absoflippinlutely delicious!

Headed by Slitfang, a score of Freebooter vermin wandered the coastline, looking out for the landmarks that Captain Plugg had described to them.

Tazzin panted as she climbed a steep sandhill. Is this the one Cap’n Plugg said ter look out for? Slitfang shrugged. Could be. We won’t know

‘til we gets to the top an’ takes the lay o’ the land.

The stoat Scummy gritted sand between his few teeth. Wouldn’t ye think old Plugg’d come an look fer hisself? Bet ‘e’s playin’ wid ‘is new likkle boat, ‘im an’ that fat white sissy Prince.

The weasel Stinky grabbed at a tussock of grass. It came out by the roots and he tumbled backward. Wiping sand from his eyes, he flung the grass away savagely. Yore right there, bucko, I don’t see the sense in traipsin’ up an’ down the beaches.’Tis a flamin’ vinegar trip if’n yew ask me!

Slitfang turned to face the complainants. Well, I didn’t ask yer, Stinky.

Vinegar trip, eh? That’s wot ye call carryin’ out Cap’n’s orders, eh?

I ain’t askin’ ye now, I’m tellin’ youse two. Shut yore gobs an’ stop talkin’ mutiny, or I’ll report ye to the Cap’n when we gets back. Now I’ve warned yer, one more wordÑ

Tazzin had reached the hilltop. She called out to Slit-fang, Ahoy, Slitty, come an’ take a dekko at this!

The weasel turned his back on the two crewbeasts and scrabbled his way to the top.

Below them the shores stretched south, broken only by the broad stream that flowed across from the woodlands. This was what they had been looking for, exactly as Plugg had described it. However, it was not the stream that caught most of the Freebooters’ attention.

A smile of villainous delight crossed Slitfang’s ugly face. Well, scrape me barnacles, will ye look at that. I swear, ‘tis the old ketch wot King Sarengo used to tow abaft of ‘is big ship. I remembers it from when I was young. Haharr, an’ there’s a camp alongside it, all nice

‘n’ cosy like!

By this time the others had climbed up and joined him. The rat Ripper licked the edge of a sharp sickle he carried.

Couldn’t be crewed by more’n ‘arf a dozen, an’ there’s twenny of us.

Wot do yer say, Slitty?

Slitfang spat on his paws and rubbed them gleefully. I say we takes a walk down there, nice’n’quiet, so as not ter frighten ‘em off. That fire’s burnt low, bet they’re ‘avin a peaceful noontime nap under that there lean-to. Now lis-sen, youse lot, I don’t want no killin’. We’ll take ‘em as prisoners back to the Cap’n. I gotta feelin’ Plugg’d want to ‘ave a word with ‘em. Foller me, an’ no noise.

Tazzin tossed her blade skilfully and caught it. Right y’are, Slit, let’s pay ‘em a visit!

Beneath the awning, Scarum was snoring gently. Something tickled his nose; he brushed it away. It tickled again, and he hit out at it. His paw struck something hard. Opening his eyes, the hare found himself staring into Slitfang’s grinning face.

The weasel was dangling a dagger over his nose. He winked at Scarum.

Wakey wakey, rabbit, you got visitors.

The Salamandastron hare came awake fighting. His longback legs shot out into the weasel’s stomach as Scarum shouted, Eulaliaaa! We’re being attacked, mates!

His companions leaped up, Sagax flooring a rat with a hefty blow. Kroova caught a ferret’s footpaws and sent him flat. Then the Freebooters swamped them. Fighting like madbeasts, the three companions tried to battle with overwhelming odds. Scarum seized their makeshift paddle and broke free. He batted the campfire with it, sending showers of hot embers at his foes. Sagax exerted his mighty strength. Grabbing the rat Ripper, he whirled him bodily over his head.

Slitfang roared out, Surrender, or this’un’s a deadbeast! Slitfang had stunned Kroova from behind with his cutlass hilt. Both he and Tazzin crouched over the otter, their blades at his throat.

Fear for their friend’s life caused Sagax to drop Ripper. Scarum ceased scattering fire. Immediately they were set upon by vermin and bound with ship’s ropes.

Slitfang spat out a tooth he had lost in the melee. He looped a rope around the half-conscious otter, nodding with satisfaction. That’s better. No sense in slayirT youse ... yet!

Four vermin had Sagax lying bound upon the sand. He tried to struggle upright, but was kicked back again. What’s the meaning of this attack?

What do you want with us?

Slitfang held his cutlass point to the young badger’s chest. Oh, nothin’, stripedog, just a bit of information, but that’ll wait’til ye meet Cap’n Plugg Firetail.

Scarum was lying facedown, the ropes biting cruelly into his paws.

Lifting his head, he blinked sand out of his eyes. I should’ve booted your belly through your backbone, you scumfaced villain. If I wasn’t jolly well trussed up, I’d give you such a blinkin’Ñ

Yah Shuddup, rabbit! The stoat named Scummy ground his paw on the back of Scarum’s head, pushing his face into the sand.

Tazzin felt heat on her back. She turned. The ship’s burnin’!

Blazing embers from the scattered fire had stuck to the pitch and resin coating of the bows. With such inflammable materials, the Stopdog immediately burst into a sheet of flame. Everybeast leaped back from the blaze. Slitfang tried running forward to see if he could fight the fire, but a breeze caught the conflagration. He, too, was forced to leap back from the blistering heat. Then the awning caught light from a salvo of pitchÑand resin-soaked splinters. Dragging their captives, the Freebooters abandoned the site, beating at their smouldering clothing as more sparks leaped out from the burning vessel.

Slitfang kicked out viciously at the young hare. Yew caused that, rabbit!

It was yore fault, whackin’ fire all over the place like that!

Scarum bit at the weasel’s paw, but missed. Rabbit y’self, you great smelly bully! He looked over at Kroova apologetically. Sorry about your ship, old chap.

Half dazed, the otter managed a lopsided grin. Bet-ter’n lettin’ the Stopdog fall into the paws o’ vermin, eh.

Slitfang waved his cutlass at Ripper and Stinky. Youse two get back to the Seascab. Tell the Cap’n wot’appened, an’ tell’im we’ve found the stream wot crosses the shore-Well wait’ere for’im. Go on, git goin’!

Reluctantly the pair moved off, muttering under their breath.

Huh, while’e waits there, all nice an’ easy-like.

Aye, picks the good jobs fer’imself, don’t’e?

Before they had made it to the hill, which they had earlier descended, Tazzin caught up with the pair. She smiled slyly and twirled her knife expertly.

Slitty sez I’m t’go with ye. Oh, ane said somethin’ else, too. Gave me orders to cut off yore’eads if’n ye start talkin’ mutiny or not movin’

fast enough.

Slitfang watched them scrabbling back up the hill with Tazzin and her knife close behind. He turned to his captives. Yew three just lay there quiet an’ try not to annoy me. Ye wouldn’t like to see me annoyed. We’ll all wait ‘til Cap’n Plugg comes sailin’ up in the ole Seascab an’ see wot ‘e’s got to say about all this. Haharr, shouldn’t imagine that snooty Princess KurdaTl be too ‘appy when she sees ‘er old grandad’s ketch burnt to a cinder!

Scarum whispered to Kroova, Who in the name of my auntie’s pinny is Princess Kurda?

Slitfang cuffed Scarum across the ears. I tole ye t’be quiet, rabbit.

Scarum could not resist having a last word. Actually, I’m a hare, old chap.

Slitfang raised his cutlass threateningly. Yew ain’t an ‘er, yore a him, but one more peep out o’ ye an’ you’ll be twins, ‘cos I’ll make two of ye!

Sagax gave his friend a glare, warning him to be silent.

Evening fell with the three prisoners still lying bound upon the sand, listening to the vermin’s coarse banter about their eventual fate at the tender mercy of the one they called Plugg Firetail. Sagax closed his eyes. It did not make for cheerful listening.

25

The stream that Shogg and Triss were following took a curve into thick woodland. Both kept to the water, sometimes waist deep, other times paddling through the bank shallows. It was not easy going, trying not to leave signs that could be tracked. In the late noon they took a rest, sitting on a mossy ledge overgrown by hanging willows. The otter peered back up their trail.

Luck’s with us so far, mate. I can’t see nor ‘ear any sign of ‘em, thanks to those Coneslinger squirrels.

Triss stretched out on the velvety moss, tired and hungry. Maybe fortune is favouring us for the moment, but we’d be fooling ourselves by thinking Riggan won’t pick up our trail sooner or later. Kurda won’t rest until she’s got us back in her clutchesÑyou know that.

Shogg slid back into the water. Aye, yore right. Though if we can make it to the shore an’ get our ship back somehow, we’ll show em a clean pair o’ paws. A big clumsy Freebooter vessel like theirs wouldn’t keep up with us if’n we sailed close to the shallows an’ reefs. They’d find it ‘ard to follow.

Evening began falling over the tree-shaded stream as they plowed their way onward. Triss was wading alongside her friend when she began feeling a touch uneasy. Leaning across, she whispered in his ear, I don’t like it hereabouts, but I don’t know why.

Keeping his gaze straight ahead, the otter replied, I don’t like it either, Trissy I think somebeast’s watchin’ us. Keep movin’, maybe we’re just passin’ through their territory an’ they’ll let us go by. Don’t look around, keep goin’.

Triss peered downstream and saw shadowy figures flitting about on the banks. Don’t have to look around, Shogg, they’re up ahead.

But the otter had already chanced a backward peep. Then ‘tis woe to us, mate, ‘cos they’re be’ind us, too!

The squirrelmaid felt her paws tremble. As if we haven’t got enough trouble. What d’you think is the best thing to do? I’m too tired to think straight.

Shogg halted, placing his back against Triss so that he was facing upstream. We got nothin’ to lose, matey, so let’s brag it out. You any good at the braggin’?

Triss faced downstream, glad of her friend’s back to lean on. It’s worth a try, I suppose. You go first.

Clenching both paws, Shogg shook them above his head and roared aloud to the unknown watchers, Come an’ face a champion streamwalloper! Don’t skulk around like maggots in a rotten log! I’ve cracked skulls, sailed stormy seas an’ leaped o’er mountains! I ain’t got a foe in the world, know why?’Cos they’re all dead!

Gruffing her voice, Triss yelled out her challenge. I was born in the thunder, I’m a warrior, the child of warriors! Stand in my way an’ I’ll tramp right over ye!

There was a splash in the water as something dived from the bank. A moment later a large water vole’s head popped up, almost directly between the two friends. He shook his fur, bushing out his big hairy face, and smiled, addressing them in a slow rustic voice.

Oi do berleeve we means you wayfarers no ‘arm. Oi be named Arvicola.

Me’n my voles allus been friendly wi’ streamdogs an’ treemouses. Hush ye now, though oi do berleev oi did enjoy lissenin’ to such good braggers as you be.

Triss heaved a sigh of relief and held out her paw. I’m Triss and he’s Shogg. We’re runaway slaves trying to reach the shore. Some very bad rats and an evil white ferret are probably on our trail. That’s why we stuck to the stream, to save leaving tracks.

Other water voles popped up all around the fugitives, each one as big and bushy as Arvicola, who was nodding his head sagely as he digested the squirrelmaid’s information. He plucked a reed and began nibbling on it.

Dearie me an’ lackaday, you creatures be in trouble greatly, no doubtin’

o’ that. We got families an’ babes nestin’ in these ‘ere banks, can’t

‘ave otherbeasts a-botherinem. Do ye follow us now, we’ll be takin’

ye down to the shores. Oi be thinkintis the best solution. Come you now, voles, let’s be helpin’ these two.

Surrounded by water voles, Triss and Shogg continued their journey, with Arvicola pointing the way ahead. Our stream splits an’ joins another up yonder, oi do berleev that will be a-takin’ you to the shorelands.

Kurda was relieved when darkness fell. She beckoned Vorto to her side.

Vot you t’ink ve do now, Captain?

Vorto answered, knowing he would be saving the Princess’s face by suggesting the obvious. They could keep us pinned ‘ere forever, yer

‘ighness. Best thing is to back out an’ slip away. Then we can circle the trees an’ let Riggan find the slaves’ trail. Unless, o’ course, they’re still ‘idin’ in there.

A pinecone whizzed out of the darkened tree fringe, pinging off Kurda’s sabre blade. She began wriggling backward.

Nah, slaves not ‘ide in dere no more. Ve do like you say, yarr!

Shuffling backwards on their bellies, the Ratguards retreated, still pelted by stray pinecones. When they were out of range, Kurda ordered Riggan to scout the area for signs.

Less than an hour later, the slavecatcher returned to make her report.

They left these trees, a bit round the other side, Princess. I found a stream close by. Runners always try to lose yer by takin’ to a stream.

Kurda touched Riggan’s paw with her bladepoint. You are de best. Ve vill go catch dem, yarr?

The tracker led them off, giving the trees a wide berth. We’ll lay’em by the paws, never yew fear, marm!

Vorto held the guards back whilst Riggan inspected the streambank. Kurda watched her closely.

The tracker’s keen eyes missed nothing. She smiled to herself. Aye, just like I figgered, they went downstream, west.

Kurda pointed her sabre. You sure dey not go upstream? I t’ink dey go dat vay, east!

Riggan waded a short way downstream and returned with a broken reed.

She held it up for Kurda to see. Yore a princess, marm, I’m a slavecatcher.

This came from down yonder. It’d be natural for anybeast t’think they’d gone inland, but I knows me slaves. They always try an’ fool ye by goin’

the opposite way.’Tis west, sure enough!

Kurda and Riggan led off downstream. Vorto and the rest followed, marvelling at the tracker’s skills as she confirmed the route by noticing bent reeds, disturbed pebbles and bruised leaves hanging down from streambank trees.

Plugg Firetail had misjudged his landfall by anchoring too far north of Mossflower. Immediately after Tazzin and the runners arrived with news of Slitfang’s discovery, the silver fox had the Seascab under way, rousing the rest of his crew from their night’s sleep. With the recovered craft in tow, he sailed south down the coast. Grubbage spotted the smoke and flame from the Stopdog shortly before dawn. He roused Prince Bladd, who was sleeping out, snuggled in rope coils on the afterdeck.

Ahoy, mate, go’n’ tell the Cap’n we’ll be droppin’ anchor soon. Move yerself, Princeness, Cap’n don’t like t’be keptwaitin’!

Bladd, who had got used to being bullied by Freebooters, staggered upright, scratching his midriff. I go, but den I take another shleep in mine nice soft bed.

Grubbage, whose hearing had not improved, waggled a grubby paw in his ear and nodded. 1 allus said you’ad a nice soft’ead.’Op along now, mate!

Slitfang ran down to the sea and waded in, shouting up to Plugg, who was standing in the bows. This is the place, Cap’n, I found it. An’

I got three prisoners for ye, too!

Two of the crew lowered Plugg down on a rope. On reaching Slitfang, he boxed the weasel’s ears soundly.

Three prisoners, eh? Then why aren’t ye back there guardinem? An’ why did yer let that ketch git burned down? Stumping up to the burned-out campsite, he glared at Sagax, Kroova and Scarum distastefully.

A streamdog, a stripedog, an’ a rabbit, wot good are they t’me? Why didn’t ye destroy them an’ save the ketch, instead o’ savin’ them an’

lettin’ the craft get ruined?

The crew got out of Plugg’s way. It was obvious he was in a bad mood.

Grubbage came up the beach, followed by Prince Bladd and the rest of the Seascab’s crew. A sudden thought struck Grubbage.

Cap’n,’ow’s the Princess an’ those Ratguards goin’ to find us again, now that ye’ve moved the Seascab down the coast?

Plugg sighed. I forgot about that lot.

Bladd giggled. I hope dey are losed forever,’specially mine sister.

I not vant to see her again, dat’s for sure!

Scarum had been listening with interest to the conversation. The talkative hare could not resist taking part. I say, old chap, that’s a bit heartless, wot, not wantin’ to see your sister again. I bet she misses you terribly!

Plugg waggled his axe threateningly under the hare’s nose. Who asked you, rabbit?’Ere, Tazzin, gut these three an’ toss’em in the sea fer fishfood!

Tazzin twirled her knife, smiling eagerly. Aye aye, Cap’ri!

Sagax decided it was time for him to speak up. Only a fool would do that. D’you know who we are?

The young badger tried to look as regal as he could, which was not easy, lying dumped and bound on the sand. I am the son of a great mountain Lord. The hare, Bescarum, is from a very wealthy family. Our otter friend is the son of an emperor of sea otters. If you slay us, think of the ransom you’d miss out on.

Scarum interrupted. He’s right, y’know, old lad. Our families would prob’ly swap a jolly great shipload of treasure t’get us back. No sense in slayin’ us, wot wot?

Plugg sat down on the sand beside Scarum. Haharr,’tis long seasons since I’eld anybeast to ransom. Righty ho, rabbit, we’ll let you’n yore mates live, but you’d better’ope yore rich pappas an’ mammas stump up plenty, or ye’ll be fed to the sharks, one at a time. D’ye unnerstand? Scarum shook his head in mock admiration of the Freebooter. I say, sir, you’re a born genius, what jolly clever thinkin’. I’d shake your paw heartily if I weren’t tied up at the moment!

Slitfang placed a paw on his hip and swaggered about, trying to imitate Scarum’s speech. Ho I say, wot wot, jolly ole rabbit! Don’t’e talk pretty?

Plugg fetched Slitfang a whack that sent him sprawling. That’s’cos’e’s a gentlebeast, not like you, slabnose. That there rabbit’s’ad a h’eddication, more’n wot we’ve ever’ad. My old uncle was a gentlebeast wid a h’eddication. I liked’im. My old uncle could sing wunnderful h’ed-dicated ditties, too!

Plugg whirled on Scarum, shoving his double-headed axe under the hare’s chin. Kin yew sing h’eddicated ditties?

Scarum gulped. Educated ditties, sah, I was brought up on’em, could sing ditties before I could talk!

Plugg aimed a cheerful kick at the floored Slitfang. See, I told yer, that’un come from the quality. Go on, then, h’eddicated rabbit, sing us a ditty.

Scarum bobbed his ears politely. These ropes are pretty tight.

The silver fox raised his axe meaningly. Never mind tellin’ us the name o’ the ditty, just sing it!

Scarum pulled a wry face at Sagax and Kroova, then launched into his song.

O’tis marvellous what an education docs for a chap, His eyes light up when he puts on the old thinkin’ cap, His brain begins to whirr an’ click,

Ideas pour in fast an’ thick,

‘Cos that’s what an education’s for!

If it takes one mole to dig a hole,

Ten seasons and a bit.

How many moles could dig that hole,

If they were fat an’ fit?

Then if two squirrels helped them,

As deep as they could reach.

If those two squirrels made a pair,

The answer is a peach!

That’s what an education does for a chap, It leaves the blinkin’ duffers in a bit of a flap, For learnin’ facts you may depend,

One spouts out answers without end,

So hearken now an’ I’ll astound you more!

If two sparrows had six arrows,

And set out to shoot a duck,

Just how long would it take them,

Before they had some luck?

The answer’s jolly simple,

As clever types will know,

To bag that duck they had no luck,

Because they had no bow!

‘Cos that’s what an education does for a chap, When learnin’ dawns upon him like a big thunderclap, As they hear his knowledge flow,

The clods will cheer and shout what ho,

Now that’s what an education’s for!

If I had two an’ you had two,

And she had two as well,

If they had two, just like we two,

The truth to you I’ll tell,

If one knew far too little,

Those facts would be too few,

But if one had education,

One would find the answers, too!

The Freebooter crew, who had gathered around to listen, sat slack-jawed with wonderment at Scarum’s rapid delivery of the song, for he had sung it at an alarming rate, without a single stumble.

Kroova could not help smiling. Well done, matey, I’d clap ye if’n me paws was free!

The hare sniffed. Think nothin’ of it, old lad. Huh, you’d wait a long time expectin’ applause from these vermin oafs!

Plugg swiftly cuffed a few ears and kicked some tails. Come on, ye dimwits, if’n ye ain’t got a h’eddication, the least ye can do is to show the rabbit you’ve got some manners! He strode among his crew, making sure they all cheered.

Sagax moved closer to Kroova and murmured quietly, Good old Scarum.

While he’s keeping them amused, they’re not talking about slaying us, eh, mate?

Kroova looked at the cheering vermin, knowing that their mood could change in the blink of an eye, depending on their captain’s good or bad humour.

Aye, mate, but it’ll only last as long as ole Scarum can keep’em entertained.

Sagax watched his friend. Scarum was launching into a funny story about a rhubarb pie fight between two frogs. The young badger shook his striped head.

I know he’s the world’s worst glutton and we’ve had to yell at him from time to time, but we’d be in a bad way right now if we didn’t have him along. To think that our very lives are depending on Scarum keeping a crew of vermin amused.

Kroova had to raise his voice to make himself heard above the guffawing crew of the Seascab. Yore right, mate, I’ll never shout at’im again for robbin’ vittles. If’n we gets out o’ this lot, ole Scarum can stuff’is face to’is’cart’s content!

Sagax shot the sea otter a warning glance. Not too loud, mate. Keep your voice downÑhe might hear us!

26

After wading through the small stream they had been following, Triss felt as though the one it flowed into was almost a riverÑbroad, deep and fairly swift-running. Almost up to her neck, she clung to Shogg’s paw, which supported her stoutly. Arvicola went ahead with them, his watervole tribe bringing up the rear, no strangers to overhanging foliage and a night-darkened waterway.

Triss peered anxiously into the gloom ahead. Are we anywhere near the shore yet?

Arvicola answered in his slow, rustic drawl. If n you do berleev that yon vermin are sure to track ye, then I do think it be time to divert’em, missy.

Shogg shook his head doubtfully. There’s one among’em, Riggan the slavecatcher, she’s clever, matey. Ye’d’ave trouble bluffiner from a trail.

Arvicola pulled a reed and chewed reflectively on it. Mayhap she’s smart, but I berleev you’ll find us not t’be fools. This be our territory, we knows it like no other beast. Hop out of this water now an’ I’ll tell ye my plan.

They pulled themselves up onto the bank, Arvicola and his tribe following suit. The watervole Chieftain issued orders in an unhurried manner.

All of ye now, circle an’ mill. You two as well, friends.

Obediently they joined the watervoles, milling about in circles, stamping the ground hard until Arvicola called a halt. He inspected the ground, satisfied with the result.

I do berleev it be nicely flattened an’ well marked now. Look you, friends, see where my paw be a-pointin’.

Triss nodded. Over the water to the far bank.

The watervole’s homely face broke into a brief smile. Well said, missy.

Now, yonder there is an overgrown ledge, I do berleev’twill fit ye both snug. You jump in the water an’ make your way across to it, an’ we’ll bide’ere till you be goodly hidden. Hasten now, waste not the time.

Shogg took Triss by the paw and the two leaped into the broad stream.

He guided her across and felt around in the dark until he had located the ledge beneath lots of hanging grass and fern. They ducked under the water and surfaced beneath it. Taking care not to touch the screen of vegetation, Triss peered through. She could barely make out Arvicola standing on the far bank.

Shogg called across to him, ’Tis a good’idin’ place, mate. Wot now?

Arvicola chuckled. Stay put there, friends. My voles will mill around a bit more, then go south through the woods. We’ll be leavin’ a fine ole messy trail for your vermin foes to follow. Whatever ye do, stay there silent. Wait until they leave the waterway to follow us. When they be well clear, ye can both carry on through the water. Tis not a great distance to the shores and the sea. Fare ye well now, I do berleev we’ll be off!

Milling and stamping away, Arvicola and his watervoles crashed off through the woodlands.

After a while, the silence and darkness began making Shogg feel edgy.

He murmured uneasily, I don’t like it, Triss, sooner be on the move than stuck’ere stannin’ still. What if Riggan spots us?

The young squirrelmaid clasped her friend’s paw. This is the best chance we’ve got, believe me. I trust Arvicola. He looks like a woodland bumpkin, but that watervole has got a crafty old head on his shoulders!

Shogg was forced to agree. Aye, I know’e wants to take Kurda an’ the vermin away from both’is own camp an’ us as well. Looks like we’ll just’ave to bide’ere anope we don’t get spotted.

It was easier for Shogg than it was for Triss, standing neck deep in their watery hideout. For what seemed an interminable age, the broadstream flowed silently by. The young squirrelmaid bit down on a pawf ul of reeds to stop her teeth chattering as Shogg murmured, At least it ain’t as bad as bein’ in a cage at Riftgard’s fjordÑnow that was real cold. Hush, somebeast’s a-comin’!

Kurda waded alongside Riggan. The slavecatcher had deployed half of the Ratguard behind them and the other half walking either side of the banks. The Pure Ferret Princess was still not convinced they were on the right course, complaining regularly to Riggan.

You sure dey vent dis vay? Dere are no signs.

Peering ahead, the slavecatcher growled confidently, Don’t ye fret, marm. We’re’ard on the trail, I knows it!

Vorto, who was up on the bank, called out excitedly, Up’ere, tracks all over the place!

Riggan hopped out onto the bank. Back off, I want those prints clear!

Keep the others away from’em an’ keep yore voice down. No need to shout all over the woodlands.

Kurda halted in midstream, with the rest of her Rat-guards catching up to her. She was directly opposite the hidden ledgeÑTriss could see her clearly through a slight gap in the reeds. Both she and Shogg remained completely still. At one point, when Kurda turned to maintain her balance, Triss looked directly into the wicked pink eyes of the Princess, convinced that Kurda was staring straight back at her. Mercifully, the Princess turned around to face Riggan.

You see der tracks, yarr, tell me!

Riggan was down on all fours, inspecting the area. Ho, I sees’em shore enough, marm. They mostly belongs to a crowd o’ voles, but I kin make out the otter an’ squirrel marks, very faintly. They’ve cut off south through the trees, not so long back, either.

Kurda allowed Vorto to assist her up onto the bank with his spearhaft.

The rat Captain saluted smartly.

No need t’move slowly now,’ighness, this trail’s easy to follow. They prob’ly figgered we went upstream an’ east.

Kurda released the spear pole. Gutt, den vot you vait-ing for, Vorto?

Go and capture dem. Riggan and I vill follow.

Riggan protested. But, marm, I should be up front, trackin’.

Kurda fixed the slavecatcher with a haughty glare. I give de orders.

You track too slow. Der trail is clear, yarr, let dem get hot onto it.

Go, Vorto, hurry. Ve vill be behind you, making sure der slaves haven’t cut off to left or right. Riggan vill know if dey have.

When the woodlands were still and quiet once more, Shogg poked out his head and sighed. Phwaaaw! Good ole Arvicola! That riddle dodge worked well.

Triss climbed up onto the bank, flexing her cold limbs. Come on up here, mate, we’ll travel much faster to the shore on good dry land!

Plugg Firetail was immensely proud of his new boat and wanted to show it off. He winked roguishly at the three prisoners sitting bound paw and limb on the sands. D’ye see the big ship? That’s me ole Seascab.

But I’m cap’n o’ two ships now. Wot d’ye think o’ that likkle beauty lyin’ moored astern of the big’un?

Kroova knew they had to keep the Freebooter happy. She’s a beauty, no doubt o’ that Cap’n, pretty as a picture. I never seen one nicer!

Plugg stood and thumped his swelling chest. Aharr, an’ she’s all mine, though she ain’t got a sail fer the moment. Some runaway slaves made off with it.

Scarum played along, shaking his head sadly. Teh tch, can’t trust anybeast these days. So then, sah, what’s the name o’ that handsome craft, wot?

I ain’t thought of a name yet. Wot would you call’er? Sagax could not help admiring Scarum’s crafty reply. Hmm, difficult to say, sah, not havin’ seen the vessel close up, bein’ aboard her an’ so on. If you were to untie us, an’ I promise we won’t run away, perhaps we could go and look the craft over and decide on a well-educated name. Plugg closed one eye, letting the other rove over them. Untie ye? I ain’t no fool, that’s why I’m a cap’n. But I’ll tell ye wot I’ll do. I’ll get me crew to carry the three of ye down an’ put ye aboard o’ me new ship. I’ll sit with ye an’ we’ll’ave an eddicated talk about naminer!

As they were carried down the shore by the Seascab’s crew, Sagax managed to whisper to Scarum, Nice try. Pity it never worked, but don’t give up.

Plugg had them propped up in the bows. He ordered extra ropes and had them lashed securely to the seat. The silver fox sat astern, leaning on the tiller of the beautiful slave-built ship. He peered over the side, where his crew stood, waist-deep, waiting patiently.

Belay there, wot d’you thick-’eaded lot want, eh? The rat Ripper looked rather hurt at this remark. We wants to’ear wot the eddicated rabbit is goin’ to name yer pretty ship, Cap’n.

Plugg adjusted his tattered coat hem haughtily. That’s private. Youse git back ashore, go on. Huh, I’m a cap’n an’ I got eddicated things to discuss wid these gentlebeasts. Slitty, yore in charge, take’em back to the fire, will ye? Oh, an’ keep an eye out fer Kurda an’ those rats of’ers. If’n we’re still’ere come dawn, then, Grubbage, you bring us some brekkist.

As the crew waded sullenly to the beach, Grubbage muttered, Wot’s all that about rubbish gettin’ kissed? Huh, they’ll prob’ly sit out there the rest o’ the night, an’ I’ll’ave t’bring’em some brekkist!

Plugg rubbed a paw fondly along the tiller and smiled happily at his three prisoners. See, I told ye. Pretty as a painted cockleshell, ain’t she? C’mon now, which of ye is eddicated about ship names?

Sagax and Scarum hesitated, so Kroova volunteered. 1 think that might be me, Cap’n.

Plugg produced a flask of grog from his voluminous coat. He took a long swig, belched and pointed at Scarum. That there riverdog don’t talk as nice as you.

The young hare hastened to assure him. Beg pardon, sah, but Kroova is a boat-namin’ expert!

The silver fox took another long pull at his flask. An expert, y’say?

Go on then, riverdog, do yer stuff!

Still following the broad stream, Shogg and Triss emerged from the woodlands onto a plateau of dunes. Below them the stream coursed along a canyon it had carved from running for countless ages through the dunes.

It flowed outward across the shore to unite with the sea. Immediately both threw themselves flat on the coarse grass, viewing the scene before them. A whole crew of vermin were lazing around the embers of a burnt vessel. Beyond that the big Freebooter ship bobbed at anchor, like a huge dark bird of ill omen. Behind it their little boat swayed on the start of an outgoing ebb tide.

Shogg scratched his rudder thoughtfully. Look, mate, there’s our boat!

Wot’s it doin’ down this far? When we left, it was further north up the coast.

Triss shrugged. Lucky for us we found it. We must have gone in a sort of half-circle. The captain of the big ship moved it south down the coast. So here we all are.

The otter patted the rolled-up sail, which was still tied across his back. Then let’s git down there an’ steal our vessel back. We can cut round those vermin dozin’ about the fire.

Triss narrowed her eyes as she peered at the small craft. It won’t be so easy as that, mate. I think there’s a few of them aboard our ship, about four of’em, I reckon. We don’t have a weapon between usÑyou gave away your sling-stones to the Coneslingers. As for my spear, I’ve no idea where it is. I must have lost it along the way. So, what now?

The light of determination shone in the otter’s eyes. We ain’t waitin’

about’ere for Kurda aner slavecatcher to find us. I’ve still got my sling, but there’s no stones about. So there’s only one thing for it.

This is the plan, Triss: We sneak down there an’ pinch some weapons off’n those vermin. Then we swim round the big ship an’ surprise whatever beasts are in our boat. If we’re quiet an’ fast enough, we can slip’er line an’ sail off after we toss’em overboard. So, matey, are ye with me?

Triss gripped her friend’s strong paw. Sneak down there, steal weapons, sneak round the big ship and steal our craft back. That’s a lot of sneaking and stealing for one night, Shogg. I’m with you all the way, mate!

Tazzin was sitting stooped by the glowing embers, her head bent, snoring gently. As Shogg inched up behind her, his paw encountered something in the sand: a broken oar pole. He grinned happily at Triss. The pole made a distinct thonk. Triss held her breath. Falling silently sideways, the knife-throwing weasel groaned faintly and lay still. Shogg relieved her of two stilettos from her belt. He passed one to Triss and indicated that the daggers, plus the oar pole, were sufficient. They backed off into the darkness outside the pool of light from the guttering fire.

Scarum had taken up the task of ship-naming, since Kroova’s efforts had not satisfied Plugg. Actually, I think Gutslasherisn’t the right name at all, sah, far too sissyish for a villa ... er, fine chap like y’self. What about Rosebud NosenipperÑhow does that sound, wot? Yes, the Rosebud NosenipperÑpretty but fierce at the same time. Hmmm, but perhaps Rottenrudder does have a certain jolly old ring about it, quite a charming name, I think, wot?

Sagax caught the hare’s attention. Ssshh, he’s asleep! The empty grog flask slid from Plugg’s loose grasp as his head lolled to one side, mouth open, snoring uproariously. Scarum stared disdainfully down his nose at the Freebooter. I say, what a dreadful sight! Bet his parents were jolly glad when he upped anchor an’ left home, wot?

Kroova strained wearily at his tight bonds. Oh, leave’im be, mate. While Plugg’s nappin’ we don’t’ave t’keep on talkin’ to save our lives. Let the scum snore.

The vessel rocked suddenly. Plugg began to awaken. Whoozat mates, whaÑ!

Shogg bounded swiftly over the stern, a dagger clutched in his teeth and an oar pole in his paw, which he swung. Thonk! Plugg collapsed in a senseless heap.

Triss heaved herself up over the prow, dagger at the ready. Shogg saw the three bound friends and hissed at her, Don’t strike, Triss, these beasts are prisoners!

In a trice Shogg and Triss were slicing through the ropes that bound the trio of captives. The irrepressible Scarum almost whooped with delight. I say, you chaps, spiffingly well done, wot wot. Allow me to introduce us, I’mÑmm-mmphhh!

Triss had her paw across his mouth. She whispered urgently, No time for all that now. We’ve got to cut and run, quick!

Kurda was furious. She stood slashing with her sabre at the reeds of a vast water meadow. Fools! Dey haff made fools of us! There was no trace of any creature in sight. Her pink eyes glittering insanely, she turned on Vorto. Vydid you not carry out mine orders? You should haff captured dem by now!

Riggan waded about in the shallows of the water meadow, sniffing at bulrushes and inspecting weeds. She shook her head and sloshed back to dry ground. Huh, we’ll never see those voles agin, and the two runaway slaves, they wasn’t wid ‘em. I told yer you should’ve let me lead the way, marm.’Twas all a false trail.

The slavecatcher took a step back as Kurda raised her sabre. Excuses, don’t give me de excuses, vere did der slaves go?

Riggan stepped even further back out of blade range. As y’say, marm, they fooled us. They prob’ly never left the stream.

Kurda stared hard at Riggan. You mean dey still back dere?

The slavecatcher shook her head vigorously No, marm, they was followin’

that broadstream t’the shore, Our best bet now is to ‘ead west, that’ll take us to the beaches. Then we can travel north ‘til we picks up their trail again. They can’t go far wid the sea at their backs.

Kurda leaped forward and slapped Riggan’s paw hard with the flat of her blade. Den do it, now! Vorto, get der guards moving on der double, follow Riggan. I vill get dose slaves, even if I have to follow dem to de crack of doom!

27

Crikulus and the Abbot were in Great Hall, cleaning wax out of the candle sconces, when they heard the squeals of Dibbuns from outside. Before the two old friends could make a move, Skipper and Log a Log rushed by them, shouting as they headed for the Abbey door, Leave this to us, stay inside, you two!

Dibbuns fought to get past Skipper and Log a Log as they threw open the door. The little ones were shrieking, Yeeeek! Big birdy, big birdy!

Yeeeeeek!

Bluddbeak, the great red kite, looked even bigger lying flat upon the lawn with both his enormous wings spread wide. Skipper took one look and commented to the Gu-osim Chieftain, Yon must be Ovus’s friend Bluddbeak, come to’elp us.

Log a Log whispered as they approached the red kite, Aye, though he looks as if he couldn’t’elp’imself right now, the bird’s exhausted, and he seems t’be very old. Look at’is eyes, they’re cloudy with age.

Squinting hard, the red kite clacked his lethal hooked beak. Keerah!

Stand still or die! Bluddbeak slay, be keeerful!

Skipper held up his paws in a peace sign. We’re friends, matey. Ye’ve arrived at Redwall Abbey. You’ll be BluddbeakÑwe asked Ovus to fetch you ‘ere. I don’t see him, thoughÑwhere’s that owl got to?

Cocking his head contemptuously on one side, Bluddbeak scoffed, Kraah!

Ovus is old, he will take long to get here!

Sheathing his rapier, Log a Log bowed politely. You look tired, sir, is there anythin’ we can do for ye?

Bluddbeak’s head swivelled, as if just noticing him. Karrah! I no tired, this bird just rest. You get me some greensap milk, mix with honey, that what Bluddbeak need right now, mouse, Log a Log bristled. I ain’t no mouse, I’m a Guosim shrew. If’n y’could see me, ye’d know that right off!

The red kite’s milky eyes glared ferociously at him. Kreegarr! I see you, nothing wrong with this bird’s eyes. Still waiting for my milk an’ honey. You very slow!

All Redwall turned out to see the great red kite lying sprawled on their front lawn. The Abbot seated himself on the doorstep, next to Skipper.

He listened to what the otter had to say.

That rascal Ovus sent us an ancient red kite, Father. Bluddbeak’s almost blind, deadbeat weary, an’ real bad-tempered. We’d best keep ‘im an’

Log a Log apartÑthey put one another’s backs up at first sight!

Abbot Apodemus shook his head despairingly We were fools to listen to Ovus. That poor old kite should be back in his mountains, dozing on a warm rock.

Gangway there, milk’n’honey comin’ through!

Skipper and the Abbot shifted, allowing Friar Gooch and Furrel to pass with the red kite’s drink.

Bluddbeak guzzled away at a panful of the mixture, throwing back his head and swallowing noisily. Greensap milk and clear honey slopped down over his throat and chest plumage.

Memm kept the Dibbuns in check with a long window pole, nudging them back. Steady in the junior ranks there, chaps, that blinkin’ monster’ll scoff you if y’get too flippin’ close!

Whooping excitedly, the Abbeybabes fled off to the orchard. Memm had created a new game for them: Ruggum, Turfee and Roobil became red kites, chasing the others and trying to scoff them. All good fun.

It was midnoon by the time Bluddbeak had sufficiently recovered himself.

The onlookers got out of his way as he hopped awkwardly through the open door and into Great Hall.

Malbun met Curdle Sprink coming out. What’s that bird up to in there?

The Cellarhog shrugged. Great silly thing, ‘tis flyin’ about an’ bumpin’

into everythin’, see!

Outside window casements rattled as the huge feathery form inside hit them several times.

Log a Log chuckled sourly. ProbTy tryin’ to knock some sense into hisself.

Skipper gave a slight start as Ovus flapped out of nowhere to land beside him. The otter took him straight to task.

Hah, so there ye are, matey. Wot in the name o’ seasons made you send us that useless ole bag o’ feathers, eh?

The owl’s eyes widened indignantly. Have a care what you say about Bluddbeak, that kite saved my life more than once. He’s the greatest hunter I’ve ever known, and a much faster flyer than I’ll ever be! What have you done with him, where is he now?

As if in answer, Bluddbeak staggered out into the sunlight. Blinking rapidly, he attempted to arrange his plumage, which was sticking out at all angles. He looked irritable. Karrakarraka! Not like it in there, this bird bang head on roof, knock against stones. Arrekk! Dark in there, not good for kite! Ovus, friend, you here now. Yayhakkar! We go now an’ hunt poisonteeth, slay adders. Come!

Without another word, the two birds waddled off toward the gatehouse.

Appearing very distressed, the Abbot called to Skipper and Log a Log.

From your description of the thing out there in the woodlands, those two don’t know what they’re walking into. Hadn’t we better stop them?

The otter watched both birds flap their ungainly way over the outer walls. He turned to Log a Log. Round up yore Guosim, an’ I’ll get my crew. We can’t stop ‘em goin’, but at least we can stand by, in case of trouble.

As slowly as the two birds flew, it was difficult keeping up with them by paw. Skipper hurried the rearguard through the trees, whilst keeping sight of the winged pair drifting over the high foliage. Bluddbeak and Ovus finally descended, just short of the clearing where Skipper had found the cloaks and lanterns.

Stumbling from his perch in an elm, Ovus gazed sadly at his talons.

Rheumatiz, can’t grip anything properly anymore.

Standing on the same branch where they had both landed, the red kite blinked at the space where the owl had been. Karrh! What was that, what you say, where are ye?

Ovus called up from the ground where he now stood. Down here, friend, it’s the rheumatiz.

Bluddbeak licked at the honey and milk stuck in his plumage. Chakkarr!

Wait till you get it in wingfeathers, like me!

Skipper and his party emerged from the bushes. The red kite flapped his wings in surprise.

Arreeka! Where you think you going?

To see ye don’t get yoreselves in too much danger, mates.

Bluddbeak glared down imperiously, offended by the remark. Krakkah!

Not need your help, squirrel. You stay here, or I slay all. Bluddbeak has spoken, stay or die. Kar-rohakk!

He launched himself off into the woodlands, followed by Ovus.

Log a Log flicked his rapier in their direction. Who does that ole relic think ‘e is? Come on, Skip, let’s go an’ see those two crusty birds get themselves eaten. Snake’unter, my footpaw! That kite couldn’t tell if you was an otter or a squirrel!

Skipper did not want his followers spread outÑit was far too dangerous.

Keeping close together, they proceeded cautiously toward the glade.

The smell came then, strong and almost overpowering. Hairs stood rigid on every-beast’s neck.

Log a Log signalled them to halt, calling out in a hoarse whisper, Bluddbeak, Ovus, come back or that thing’ll get ye!

There was a terrible sound of squawking, beating feathers and hissing.

Raising his javelin, Skipper leaped forward. We’ve got t’do somethin’, come on! Redwaaaaaalllll!

They charged into a scene of what had obviously been chaos. Branches were snapped, grass flattened, kite feathers strewn everywhere. Ovus was lying prone, with a strange-looking, golden-furred mouse bending over him. Of Bluddbeak and the monster there was no trace, save for the vile sweetish odour enveloping the glade. The golden mouse caught sight of them and suddenly bolted off into the undergrowth. Log a Log and four shrews sped after him.

Skipper hurried to the owl’s side. Ovus could only half open his great dark eyes as he spoke in a weak, fading voice.

Tried to save Bluddbeak ... got bitten.... Where’s golden mouse ,..

helped me ... Skipper, that you?

The otter placed a paw under the owl’s head. Aye, ‘tis me, mate. Lie still, yore bad hurt.

Ovus could not stop his eyes from fluttering rapidly. Funny... rheumatiz isn’t hurting anymore ... had to try and save that old kite ... saved my life several times, y’know.

His eyes finally closed and his head lolled loosely from Skipper’s paw.

The adder’s poison had proved fatal. Skipper brushed a paw roughly across his eyes.

Ole fools, brave, perilous ole fools, why did ye try it?

Log a Log and his four Guosim returned, dragging the golden mouse along with them. He appeared to be in his late seasons, painfully thin and completely terrified. He was pleading pitifully, Don’t ‘urt ole Mokug, mates, I don’t mean ‘arm to nobeast!

Skipper placed his paw firmly about Mokug’s shoulders, signalling the shrews to release their hold on him. The otter Chieftain’s voice was cheerful and comforting. We ain’t goin’ to hurt ye, ole matey, Mokug, eh? Where’d you spring from? Ain’t seen you afore.

The golden mouse relaxed then, knowing he was safe. You ain’t Freebooters or Riftgarders, Mokug can tell.

Skipper gave him a reassuring little hug. We’re Red-wallers, friendliest beasts y’could ever meet. So tell us, Mokug, wot’re ye doin’

around ‘ere?

Mokug’s mood changed, his eyes darted to and fro, and he moved in close to Skipper, as if for protection. Been ‘ere since I was a young ‘un, ever since Sarengo died. I was the King’s personal slave, y’know, the only slave ‘e fetched on that voyage.’Course I was only a young ‘un then.

Log a Log twirled a paw next to his head and murmured to Skipper, Looks like ole Mokug’s crazy as a fried frog.

Mokug peeped at the shrew from behind Skipper. He smiled. Well, if’n Mokug’s the only beast left alive from that voyage, he ain’t so crazy, is ‘e, mate?

Skipper looked down at the pitiful creature. Yore right there, ole feller, but where d’ye live?

Mokug tapped the side of his nose secretively. Where nobeast can find me, but ‘tis an ‘ard life. I likes you, streamdog. Come on, I’ll show ye, ‘tis a real golden hamster’s den. Nobeast kin find it, ‘cept me!

The golden hamster led them to a bramble patch a short distance north of the glade, where he pointed to a tiny hole amid the thorny creepers.

In there’s where Mokug lives. All these long seasons gone, all on me own. Heehee, but I’m the only one left!

Skipper looked at the tiny opening and shook his head. Bit small for me, mate. I’d take the skin off’n meself tryin’ t’get in there. You come with us, we’ll find ye a decent ‘ome at Redwall Abbey.

Mokug wiggled his snub nose. Will Mokug like it there?

Skipper winked at him. Best berth anywheres, ye’ll love it!

The hamster scuttled into his hole, calling back, Wait, wait, Mokug’s got to collect ‘is tackle.

While they waited, Skipper told Log a Log of what had happened to Ovus and Bluddbeak. Shaking his head regretfully, the Guosim Chieftain sighed. ’Twas a foolish venture right from the start. Cold steel or beak an’ talon are useless against that horror. Still, I’m sorry about Ovus, an’ sorry, too, that I can’t take back wot I said about that ole kite.’E was a warrior born. Me’n my Guosim will bury Ovus where he fell, close to where ‘is mate was slain. The owl’d like that.

It took Mokug some little time to pack up his belongings. At last he emerged backwards from the den, dragging a big sailcloth bundle with him. The big ottermaid Churk and her brother Rumbol kindly carried it between them. The party headed off back to Redwall, leaving behind them a lonely grave with a crudely inscribed wood marker: Ovus and Bluddbeak, friends and warriors.

Abbot Apodemus was desolated by the loss of the two brave birds. As evening fell, he stood on the west walltopand held his paws wide, calling aloud an old chant to the crimson fires of the setting sun: They are gone from the land,

We will see them no longer,

To a place where the fearless ones go.

In the valley of noonshades,

They will meet there to wander,

Where the tranquil green waters do flow.

But oh, their brave memory will rest with us all, Through the flowers of summer so dear,

Through the winter’s cold winds, after autumn leaves fall Lives a home in our hearts for them here.

Their brave lives were lost in the service of others, They died so that we might live free,

O ye sad grieving friends,

O ye fathers and mothers,

Spare a tear as the sun meets the sea!

All along the other three walls, Abbeydwellers stood in silence, watching as Skipper moved to stand by the Abbot. As the otter Chieftain raised his javelin overhead, they honoured the dead with a mighty shout: Redwaaaaaaaalllll!

28

Cavern Hall was lit with fresh candles, lanterns and torches. Everybeast took their place at tables ranged foursquare. Though the meal was held in celebration of Ovus’ and Bluddbeak’s lives, the Abbot had little stomach for food. He had seated Mokug between himself and Mai-bun, and they looked on in amazement as the hamster put away pasties, pies, salads, cakes and tarts, with the gusto of a regiment of hares.

Mokug chuckled through packed cheeks as he helped himself to October Ale, saying, I ain’t tasted a cooked vit-tle since I was a young’un.

Wunnerful stuff, ain’t it, yore majesty!

A faint smile crossed the Abbot’s homely face. I’m not a king, my friend.

You may call me Abbot or Father, whichever you please. Tell me, though, you must have quite a story to relate. Perhaps you’d honour us later?

The golden hamster nodded as he reached for more cheese. Story, me?

Hoho, I’ll say I have. I’ll tell it all to ye later, soon as I’ve taken enough o’ these good vittles aboard. Wunnerful stuff, ain’t it, yore Abbotship!

It was a warm night, so lanterns were brought out into the orchard.

Memm and the two otters Churk and Rumbol took the Dibbuns down to the Abbey pond for a paddlebefore bedtime. Almost every other Redwaller gathered in the lantern lights beneath the orchard trees, to hear Mokug, the golden hamster, tell his story. Mokug arrived with a scroll he had dug out of his belongings. Taking a sip from a beaker of redcurrant cordial, he launched straight into his strange tale.

I don’t remember havin’ a mother or father. All that I recall was bein’

a very young slave at Riftgard, an awful place, up in the high north, beyond the great seas. A fierce white ferret called Sarengo was the King there. Huh, nobeast disobeyed ole Sarengo. But he liked my golden fur, so I became the King’s personal slave. I was luckier than the rest o’ the other pore beasts who were slaves at Riftgard. Sarengo’s fat, lazy son, Agarnu, treated ‘em cruel. He was a bad ‘un!

Well, one day, Sarengo goes on a plunderin’ voyage aboard his big ship, the Seafang, It was crewed by lots o’ Ratguards. I was taken along, too, an’ so was Agarnu. He didn’t like goin’, but the King forced him to. Sarengo had a map with a plan to raid this Abbey, they say he slew some corsair vermin to get it. Yore Abbey wasn’t marked on their map, but written there it said that it was up a river that ran onto the western shores, somewhere in Moss-flower, a big red castle called Redwall, with many fine things, magic swords, valuable tapestries an’ big bells.

Skipper smiled and shook his rudder at the Abbot. Ole searat stories an’ lies, they get more fantastic every season. Magic swords an’ big bells. Huh! The Abbot nodded as he allowed Mokug to continue. But there was a place marked on that map, mates! A place said t’be full of badgers’

treasure, an underground fortress called Brockhall.’Twas said it had lain fergotten many long seasons an’ Badger Lords had used it to ‘ide their treasures away from vermin. Malbun snorted. Utter rubbish! The Abbot silenced her with a single look. Mokug continued. Well, seein’

as it was marked clear on the map, Sarengo decided to go for Brockhall first.’Twas hard an’ rough goin’, I can tell ye, but we made it. Only trouble was, when we got there, the place was full o’ poison snakes!

Well, not really full. But a full-growed female adder an’ three young

‘uns ain’t t’be sneezed at, as y’know. Old Sarengo wasn’t King for nothin’, thoughÑhe scouted the place out for days an’ days, and guess wot he found? Brockhall had two entrances! Aye, a front an’ a back one.

Crikulus interrupted. How do you know, Mokug? What proof is there of two entrances, eh?

The golden hamster winked knowingly at the ancient shrew. Be patient an’ I’ll show ye. But on with me story. When they attacked the place, Sarengo went in the front way. He sent Agarnu an’ some Ratguards in the back. Just like Agarnu, though, he arrived late. Sarengo was already caught by the big female adder, callin’ for help. Agarnu, the coward, ran straight by his father an’ out the front way. I was standin’ in the open doorway an’ I seen it all. Sarengo gave me his map showin’

the secret entrance, told me to stay put outside an’ guard it with me life!

Leaning forward, the Abbot held up a paw. Excuse my interruption, friend, but is the map on that scroll you have with you?

Mokug waved the rolled-up parchment triumphantly. This is it, yore Abbotness, kept it by me since that day. But wait’ll I tell ye the rest.

Sarengo was a champion battler. He died, but he took the big snake with himÑthey ended their lives locked t’gether! The three young snakes slew many a rat between ‘em, and only six Ratguards got out alive. Well, eight if ye count Agarnu an’ me. I’ve lived in Mossflower for ‘ow many seasons I don’t know. I always thought one day they’d come back from Riftgard to find the treasure, an’ give ole Sarengo a king’s burial.

So I lived alone an’ steered clear of everybeast. I didn’t know who was friend or foe, see, an’ I valued me freedom. But here I am now, with honest creatures an’ goodly cooked vittles.

I hope ye’ll let me stay. I’m only an old golden ‘amster, I won’t be no trouble to anybeast in this wunnerful Abbey.

Abbot Apodemus patted Mokug’s paw comfortingly. Of course you can stay.

I’m sure you’ll be a valuable addition to our Abbey, my friend. So the white ghost and the giant serpent locked together! That explains Ruggum’s storyÑhe was telling the truth. And now, Mokug, let us take a look at this map you have kept faithfully.

The Abbot took the scroll and unrolled it. I thought you said this was a map?

The hamster tapped his paw on the scroll. Well, ‘tis a map of sorts.

Sarengo wrote down the directions instead of makin’ a sketch, but it tells everythin’.

Log a Log took a peek at the parchment. Hah! It ain’t even proper writin’, just a load of ole squiggles, circles, dots an’ loops. Nobeast could make ‘ead nor tail o’ that lot!

Mokug nodded in agreement. That’s ‘cos ‘tis written in the royal script of Riftgard. Only Pure Ferrets of Sarengo’s blood can read’n’write like that.

Crikulus groaned and threw his paws up. You mean to tell us that you’ve held on to a written map since you were young, but you can’t understand a confounded word of it?

The golden hamster shrugged innocently. I ain’t no scholar, but I’ll wager one day that some clever beast’ll understand it.

Redwallers crowded round to look at the odd script. There was much scratching of tails, rudders and ears.

Well, I’m sure I’m not that clever beast!

Burr, nay zurr, neither bee’s oi!

The Abbot rolled the parchment up carefully and put it to one side.

Oh dear, what a shame. Well now, have you anything else to tell us at all, think?

The hamster looked the picture of dejection. I told ye all I know, Abbotness, on me word I did.

Skipper placed a sympathetic paw about Mokug’s shoulder, Never mind, matey, you did yore best. Let’s go inside, ye look tired. Sister Vernal, do you think we can find this good ole beast a bed of ‘is own?

Vernal took Mokug’s paw. I’m sure we can. There’s a small room next to the Dibbuns’ dormitoryÑit has a nice bed.

Great tears popped from the hamster’s eyes. D’ye mean a room of me own, with a real bed in it?

The Abbot took his own kerchief and slipped it to Mokug. I’ll have the otters carry your belongings up. The room and the bed are yours from now on, friend.

Sister Vernal led Mokug inside to his new room. He kept the kerchief jammed to his eyes, stemming the tears. I’ll sweep it out every day an’ make the bed up meself. I never ‘ad me own quarters, ever. Thankee for yore kindness!

Friar Gooch was bringing biscuits from his kitchens for the Dibbuns.

He passed Vernal and Mokug at the main door. Dearie me, wot’s up with the old hamster? He’s cryin’ like a babe. Somethin’ upset the pore beast?

The Abbot took one end of the biscuit tray to assist the Friar on his way to the pond. Mokug isn’t upset, he’s happy. Funny how we at Redwall take things for granted, isn’t it, Friar? A bed and a room of your own: simple things. But if you were a slave who’d never had one, and if you’d lived in a hole in the ground for long seasons, it would be very different.

Properly cooked food, lots of new friends, so that you’re not alone anymore. Add to that a comfortable room and a clean bed. That’s why the poor fellow’s weepingÑhe’s overcome by it all.

Crikulus sat on an upturned wheelbarrow in the orchard. Pulling a lantern closer, he stared hard at Mokug’s parchment until his eyes began to water. He gnawed at his lip as he pored over the strange symbols.

Malbun ambled across to sit beside him. Waiting for the solution to jump out at you?

Putting aside the parchment, the ancient Gatekeeper rubbed his eyes wearily. Hmph! One would be waiting a long time for anything recognisable to jump out o’ that load of gobbledygook!

Skipper peered over Malbun’s shoulder at the puzzle. Don’t give up ‘ope, mates. It means somethin’Ñit must do, if’n somebeast took the trouble to write it all down there.

Malbun yawned and stretched. That’s correct, Skip, but I’m too tired to concentrate on anything. Come on, Crikulus, time for bed. I’ll walk you down to the gatehouse.

Malbun’s companion rose stiffly. Ooh, my back. I’ll take the bed tonightÑyour turn to sleep in the armchair.

Skipper gave them a lantern to light the way. A good night to ye both.

Don’t ferget that scroll, take it with ye. I’ll go an’ lend a paw to round up the Dibbuns down at the pond.

Paddling and eating biscuits was all the Abbeybabes were interested in. No sooner were they pulled from the shallows by Churk and Rumbol than they would escape from Memm and dash straight back into the water.

It was an endless task. The Harenurse rushed about, trying to be everywhere at once.

Turfee, stand still on that bank, sah, don’t move! I say, Churk, grab Roobil, he’s back in again!

Me wanna nudder bikkit. Ruggum splashed mine, it all wetted!

Ruggum grinned villainously, holding out a chubby paw. Give et yurr, oi loikes ee soggy bikkits!

Memm twitched her ears severely at the little mole. Out! Out of that blinkin’ pond this instant, sah. Out!

Don’t get yoreself in a tizzy, marm. Leave this t’me!

Memm smiled with relief as Skipper strode past her into the water, a long shrimp net draped across his shoulders. That’s the ticket, Skip, fish the blighters out and we’ll make soup of them!

Churk and Rumbol took the net ends, while Skipper held the centre. They captured the little ones neatly in a single sweep. Keeping them confined within the net, the three otters and Memm herded the protesting mass of Dibbuns back into the Abbey and straight up to the dormitory.

But they would not go to sleep without a song. Mokug came out of his room and obliged. The Dibbuns were delighted. This was a song they had never heard, sung by a funny old golden mouse. Mokug had a reed flute, too, which he played quite well. Even Memm and the otters lay down on the little truckle beds to listen.

O I caught a fish in the water,

I caught a crab an’ his daughter,

I caught a flounder an’ a sole,

An’ I caught an ole tadpole.

They all criiiiiied,

ÔMercy me, please let us free,

We’ll swim back to our mothers.

My very kind sir, now please be fair,

An’ go an’ catch some others!’

Well, I saw a cod in the water,

Shoved in me net an’ caught ‘er,

I saw a clam, an’ a fluke so fine,

So I caught ‘em on me line.

They all criiiiiied,

Mercy me, please let us free,

We’ll swim back to our mothers.

My very kind sir, now please be fair,

An’ go an’ catch some others!’

Farewell they swam off singin’,

‘Til both me ears was ringin’

‘Cos I fell in the sea so dark,

An’ got caught by a shark.

Then I criiiiiied,

ÔMercy me, please let me free,

I’ll swim back to me mother.

My very kind sir, now please be fair,

An’ go an’ catch some other!’

The Dibbuns learned the chorus and enjoyed it so much that they made Mokug sing it twice more. Obligingly, the golden hamster did this, and then sang a few more comic ditties. In the course of all the singing, Skipper closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. He looked so peaceful lying on the little truckle bed, none of the others had the heart to wake him, so they left the big otter snoring gently in the Dibbuns’

dormitory.

29

When pale dawn sunlight crept over the dormitory win-dowsills, Skipper sat up blinking. It took him a moment to recognise where he was. Then he remembered the dream. Silently he slipped off the bed. The Abbeybabes were still slumbering, some snoring, others whimpering and giggling in their sleep as they dreamt small dreams. Noiselessly the otter Chieftain padded out, closing the door gently behind him. Then he ran like the wind, down the stairs, taking two at a time and charged across Great Hall.

Furrel, the assistant cook, was coming in from the orchard, carrying a trug of fresh strawberries with morning dew still glistening on them.

As Skipper dashed out the door, the molemaid bobbed him a swift curtsey.

Gudd mawnin’, zurr, be ee not a stoppen furr brekkist?

However, breakfast was the last thing on Skipper’s mind.

Malbun Grimp was wakened by the knocking on the gatehouse door. She pulled herself out of the armchair, grumbling, All right, I’m coming, leave the door on its hinges, will you!

Framed by a flood of sunlight and dust motes, Skipper bounded in.

Crikulus scrambled from his bed, tousle-headed. Great seasons, are we being attacked by a vermin army?

The otter raised his rudder politely to them both.

G’mornin’, marm, mornin’, sir. I ‘ad a dream last night!

Scratching his head frowsily, Crikulus yawned. That must’ve been very nice for ye, but not uncommon. I had a dream, too, an’ so did Malbun, I’ll wager.

Skipper sat down on the bed. The urgent tone of his voice caught their attention. Aye, but not like this ‘un, mates. My dream was of Martin the WarriorÑhe spoke to me. Get that pawring we found in Mossflower, an’ the scroll, too! The wood mouse and the shrew were now wide awake and listening.

The scroll was still on the table. Malbun produced the heavy gold pawring from a wall cupboard. She struggled to keep the excitement from her voice. Here they are. Now take your time, don’t hurry, try to think clearly. What was your dream about?

The otter slowed himself visibly as he explained, Martin came into my mind when I lay sleepin’. He was holdin’ the scroll an’ wearin’ that pawring. Then ‘e pointed at the pawring an’ said, ÔThe leaf is three times five, you must remember. Tell Malbun an’ Crikulus that the leaf is three times five.’ Then Martin was gone. I dreamed no more, but I remembered wot ‘e said, word for word!

Malbun bowed her head slightly. Thank you, Skipper, you did well.

Crikulus, my friend, it seems that we’ve been given our first clue by none other than Martin the Warrior. So you open up the parchment and I’ll study this pawring. Let’s make a start.

Skipper hovered anxiously over them. Anythin’ I can do to ‘elp you two goodbeasts, anythin’ at all? Crikulus smiled hopefully at him. Er, breakfast? The big otter bounded off, chuckling. Right y’are, brekkist for three comin’ up, mates! Malbun placed the pawring in a shaft of sunlight, itstwo jetstones glowing darkly on either side of the four symbols.

Hmm, Skipper said that Martin pointed at the pawring. Now let me see, the leaf is three times five. She studied it briefly, then pointed at the next-to-last symbol. This is leaf-shaped. It even has a mark like a leaf vein running through its centre. Yes, this is the leaf.

Crikulus showed her the parchment. That shape shows up all over here, and the other two shapes as well, because obviously both end symbols are the same. But here’s your leaf: twice on the top line, three times on the second line, once on the third line, three times on the fourth line, and once on the bottom line of those two rows that are set apart.

Ten times in all, what d’you make of that?

Malbun shook her head. Ten times, that’s only two times five. We’re looking for three times five. Count them again.

Crikulus did as he was bade, but his first count proved right. That leaf only appears ten times, I’m positive!

Mokug was up and about early on his first morning. He went downstairs to explore his beautiful new home, strolling hither and thither with a radiant smile on his face and whistling softly between his teeth.

Friar Gooch popped his head around the kitchen door. A good morn to ye, friend. Come in, we’re just getting the breakfast ready. I’m Gooch, the Friar of Redwall.

A few moles were pulling hot scones from the ovens. Furrel was busy ladling a blob of meadowcream onto each scone and topping it off with a strawberry. She wrinkled her nose in a jolly manner at Mokug. Do ee loike to try wunn, zurr?

The hamster eagerly accepted her offer. Thankee, pretty miss, I’d like that fine!

The molemaid giggled. You’m keep callen oi pretty an’ oi’ll let ee’ave’em all, zurr!

Skipper trundled a trolley out of the steamy mist from a line of bubbling pans, nodding affably to Mokug. Top o’ the morn to ye, mate. Load yore brekkist on this trolley an’ we’ll take it to the gatehouse. Crikulus an’ Malbun are lookin’ at yore scroll down there. If’n ye eat with all the Redwallers, those DibbunsTl mob ye. They always do that to newcomers an’ guests.

Malbun and Crikulus made Mokug welcome. Over breakfast they told him of Skipper’s dream and their efforts to interpret the symbols. Malbun took the pawring from her apron pocket and showed it to Mokug. Ever seen anything like this before?

Fear and hate suffused the hamster’s face. That’s the pawring of King Sarengo. I’ve seen it many a time, aye, an’ felt it too. Ole Sarengo often lashed out at me when’e was wearin’ it. See that scar over me left eye? Those black stones did that. Sarengo just laughed when’e saw me lyin’ on the floor with blood runnin’ down me face. Oh, I’ve seen it before, mate, believe me!

Malbun’s voice softened. She felt sorry for the hamster. What about these signs? I don’t suppose you know what any of them mean, do you?

Mokug did not even have to look at the symbols. Oh, those, any slave at Riftgard could tell ye that, marm. It stands for Royal House of Riftgard. Ye see it stamped or carved on anythin’ in the kingdom over there.

Skipper pushed a bowl across to Mokug. Try some o’ this, messmate,’otroot’n’watershrimp soup. If’n it’s good for otters, it should do you good, too. Put a sparkle in yore eye an’ a spring to yore step!

Whilst they were joking and laughing at the taste of food new to Mokug, Crikulus took the pawring and scroll, along with his beaker of mint tea. The old Gatehouse Keeper went outside to sit on the wallsteps in the morning sun. He stared at the pawring and the parchment alternately, repeating to himself, Royal House of Riftgard, the leaf is three times five.

Churk the ottermaid wandered up with a scone and a beaker of dandelion-and-burdock cordial. She sat beside the old shrew. Ah, a bit o’ peace an’ quiet at last. Ye wouldn’t believe the noise those Dibbuns are makin’ in the orchard.

Crikulus continued talking to himself, ignoring Churk. The leaf is three times five, Royal House of Riftgard.

The burly ottermaid listened to the odd phrases. Leaf is three times five, wot’s that supposed to mean, sir?

Crikulus looked up, as if just noticing her. Are ye any good at puzzles and riddles, miss?

Churk winked confidently at him. You just try me. Skipper says I’m too clever for me own rudder sometimes. I like tryin’ to solve things.

Showing her the pawring and parchment, Crikulus explained. You see these four symbols on the ring? Well, they stand for Royal House of Riftgard.

The sign shaped like a leaf is the one I’m interested in. Now, the key is hidden somewhere in all of the symbols on this parchment. The only clue to it are these words: The leaf is three times five. So, miss, does that mean anything to ye?

Churk sat silent for a moment, concentrating hard on the evidence presented to her. Crikulus was about to speak when she held up a paw.

He held his silence whilst Churk continued scanning the objects. A slow smile began spreading across her face. Still studying the parchment, she spoke. Can you get me some clean parchment an’ somethin’ to write with, sir?

As Crikulus bustled into the gatehouse, Malbun indicated a single strawberry cream scone. We saved the last one for you, my old pal.

Where’ve you been, and where’s the pawring an’ scroll got to?

The ancient shrew rummaged a thin charcoal stick outof a drawer. You can have the scone. Where’s all the clean parchment gone, has somebeast hidden it all?

Malbun slid a piece from under the armchair cushion. It’s right here where you put it the other day.

Crikulus snatched the section of birch bark parchment. Young Churk is looking at the scroll an’ ring, out on the wallsteps. I think she’s onto somethin’!

As they hurried from the gatehouse, Mokug grabbed the scone. Waste not want not, especially strawberry cream scones!

Churk took the writing materials and immediately began scribbling away.

Skipper patted her back proudly. Haharr, you just watch this young ‘un solve yore puzzle!

But the ottermaid was not about to allow them to.

I’m not havin’ you four breathin’ down me neck. Now be off with ye, yore makin’ me nervous an’ I can’t think properly. Go on, shoo, an’

leave me alone!

The four Redwallers strolled off toward the orchard. Skipper cast a backward glance at Churk working away. That ‘un’s got some nerve, sendin’

us off t’play like four naughty Dibbuns. Ah, but she’s a brainy one, that niece o’ mine.

Malbun remarked drily, Don’t know where she gets all those brains.

Certainly not from her uncle.

Nimbly, she dodged a swing from Skipper’s rudder. The otter Chieftain spoke out indignantly. I taught Churk all she knows. Aye, there’s nobeast like me at riddles. Lissen to this, mates: Y is a letter, yet why is a word.

Don’t stalk among grass stalks, a stork’s a bird.

I is a letter you see with your eye.

Can U mean you, or is it just I?

Ask me a riddle and I’ll tell you Y.

Two’s one and one, but there’s to and too.

To understand too, I must tell you

There’s a B and a bee which should really be Like a letter C, you don’t see in the sea.

I’ll ask you a riddle and you tell me.

For what is four? Only two times two.

I can see you C, oh Y say U?

Is a hare with hair a him or a her,

Does it eat good fare, and have fur that is fair?

Two pears make one pair, that’s your answer, sir!

Mokug shook his head in amazement. Can ye say that again?

It was an old Redwall riddle, and Crikulus gave the answer that everybeast had learned at Abbey school.

There’s a pane in my window that never feels pain, And he’s at a loss to say it again.

So now is now, but as you know,

A know without K would still sound like no!

Malbun smiled wistfully. I remember old Brother Frumble teaching us that at Abbey school. Ah, happy days!

Mokug sniffed ruefully. Suppose that’s why it puzzled me. I never went to Abbey school, there was no such thing as a school for slaves at Riftgard.

Skipper took the golden hamster’s paw. Never mind, mate, we’ll teach ye bit by bit. Yore never too old t’learn.

Yahaaaar!

Crikulus almost fell over with fright at the sound. Great seasons, what was that?

Skipper was already running back to the wallsteps. It’s ChurkÑshe always makes that noise when she’s pleased!

The ottermaid was beaming from ear to ear when the friends arrived at the wallsteps. I’ve solved yore riddle! Come an’ sit here while I show ye wot it’s all about.

Book Three: The Swordmaid

30

It was the Ratguard Captain Vorto who sighted the fire-glow further north up the shore. The embers formed a small island of red light in the waning night. He pointed it out with his spear. Princess, look, there’s fire burnin’ up ahead!

Not to be outdone, Riggan was pointing also. There’s a ship beyond the tide line yonder, looks like Cap’n Plugg’s Seascab.

Kurda looked from the fire to the ship, quickening her pace. Yarr, dat Plugg moved der ship down, she vas anchored further up north, de odder side of dat big hill. I soon find out vot he is playink at!

Pawsore and weary, the Ratguards were forced to break into a run in order to keep up with her. She checked her pace without warning, scowling as Vorto ran into her back. Kurda’s glance was fixed on the stern end of the Seascab. Suddenly she was pointing with her sabre and dancing about in agitation at what she could see.

Mine boat, it is sailin’ avay, dey be stealing it back again, dose slaves!

Riggan watched the sail go up as the small, elegant craft heeled away from the larger vessel. See, marm, 1 told ye I’d lead yer to’em sooner or later.

The sabre hilt smacked into the slavecatcher’s chin, sending her sprawling. Kurda kicked and berated Riggan, Idiot! You haff not led me to dem, dey are escaping!

She dashed off up the beach, yelling hoarsely, Plugg, stop dem, de slaves are makin’ off mitt der boat!

Kurda came storming into the Freebooters’ camp, tripping over the unconscious Tazzin. Slitfang and the others, roused from sleeping around the fire, staggered forward, yawning and scratching.

Ripper the searat, no respecter of royalty, snarled irately, Yew ain’t in command’ere, we takes orders from Cap’n Plugg!

A whack from Vorto’s spearhaft sent him sprawling. The Ratguard captain yelled at the sleepy Freebooter crew, Then ye’d best get the sand out o’ yore brains an’ let Plugg know that a vessel’s bein’ stolen by slaves!

The Seascab’s crew began milling about, bumping into one another.

Where’s the Cap’n? Find Cap’n Plugg, somebeast!

Look, they’re makin’ off wid’is new sailin’ boat! Grubbage stared about in bafflement. Wot’s all this got t’do wid a blue trailin’ coat?

Kurda seized the deaf steersbeast by the scruff of his neck. You come vit me, lunkhead. Vorto, get everybeast aboard de big ship, ve vill catch dem ourselves!

Triss watched from the stern as the small vessel was swept westward on the outgoing tide. I can see KurdaÑshe’s driving them all aboard the Freebooter ship. We’d best put on a turn of speed, they’ll be coming after us as soon as she gets underway!

Shogg and Kroova were sharing the tiller between them, whilst Sagax and Scarum took up the slack in the ropes until the mast creaked and the sail billowed tautly on the breeze. Shogg peered grimly at the grey breaking dawn.

We’re goin’ to sail out west, then turn an’ take’er back into shore among the reefs. Wot d’ye say, Kroova?

The sea otter watched as the Seascab’s sails began unfurling to catch the wind. I think yore right, mate, that big ship’d soon run us down in open water. Tack an’ weave through the rocks an’ shallows. But we’ve got to draw’er away from the shore first. All the vermin are aboard’erÑthey can’t be left on the beach, where they can wade in an’

cut us off!

Oof! You keep der boat still, I bang mine head!

Prince Bladd crawled out from under the stern seat, where he had been sleeping. The Pure Ferret gazed up at them. You not Ratguards or Freebooters, vere you come from?

He attempted to rise, but Triss kicked him flat. Well, well, look who it is. We’re asking the questions now. How did you get here? Speak!

Bladd tried to scuttle back beneath the seat as Triss drew her dagger, but Shogg cuffed his ear sharply. Lay still, an’ answer the question!

Bladd glanced at the unconscious form of Plugg and began to whimper.

Dose Freebooters, dey alvays teasin’ me. I come here for der bit of peace und quiet, sleep under der seat. I am der Royal Prince, who are you?

Triss tapped Bladd’s nose with her blade. You don’t remember us, do you? Well, and why should you? We were only two miserable slaves, imprisoned at Riftgard just for the pleasure of your family. You hardly knew we were alive, save for the times you kicked us out of your way, or had some guard beat us for not bowing to you!

Recognition dawned on Bladd’s stricken features. You der slaves who steal diss boat from Riftgard. Please, it vas mine sister who put you in der cage, not me, no no!

Scarum called to them from his perch on the bows, I say, you chaps, don’t like to butt in on your jolly old reunion, wot. But I rather think those villains are hard on our trail. If we don’t shift ourselves, they’ll be dropping in for tea shortly, wot.

Shogg grinned wolfishly. Mayhap we’d be better light-enin’ our load by sendin’ these two fer a swim.

Kroova took a backward glance at the progress the Seascab was making.

The big ship was gaining bit by bit.

Not right now, mate. If’n I ain’t mistaken, there’ll be archers an’

slingers firin’ at us from’er bows, soon as they get in range. Tie those two up an’ sit’em both back’ere.

Scarum wiggled his ears. Super wheeze, old lad. Right, you two unsavoury types, prepare to defend our vessel!

Kurda braced herself in the bows of the Seascab, holding tight to the bowsprit riggings. Vorto, bring up de archers, diss ship be close enough soon. Den I slow dem up a bit. Yarr!

Tazzin climbed up alongside Kurda, rubbing at a lump the oarpole had raised. Look, they’re up to somethin’!

Hurrying to their positions, Ratguard archers set shafts to their bowstrings. The Seascab hove closer to the small craft. Riggan’s sharp eyes identified the two figures sitting upright and bound on the vessel’s stern seat.

Marm,’old yer fire, that’s Prince Bladd an’ Cap’n Plugg!

An evil smile lit up Kurda’s pink eyes. Yarr, so’tis. Who needs demÑI don’t.

The business edge of Plugg’s battle-axe prodded Kurda’s spine.

Slitfang’s voice ground out menacingly, I don’t care about yore fat stoopid brother, but Plugg Fire-tail’s our Cap’n. One arrow from yore guards an’ I’ll make two of ye with this axe, believe me, yer royalness!

Kurda never turned around, her body trembling with rage. Scum, you vill die for diss!

Slitfang prodded a bit harder. Aye, but not right now I won’t, missie.

I’m givin’ the orders,’cos I’m Cap’n when ole Plugg ain’t aboard the Seascab. Tell’em to stow those weapons.

Kroova whispered urgently to Shogg, We better do some-thin’ fast, mate, afore they ram us! That ship’s too big, an’ she’s comin’ up too fast.

Shogg sniffed the air and dabbled a paw over the side. Yore right. Give it a moment!

A stream of curses came from the wakened Plugg. Blister yore blubberin’

guts, streamdog. The tide’s startin’ to turn, ye connivin’ plank-tailed pup!

Shogg laughed. Thankee forbackin’ up my judgement, Cap’n. Yore right, the tide is turnin’. Good’n’heavy, too. Right, mates, ‘ang on tight,

‘ere we go. Kroova, take the tiller. Send ‘er round with all ye’ve got.

Haharr, haul on those port lines, Sagax, ‘tis our turn to slow them up a bit now!

Spinning almost on her own keel length, the little craft did a nimble half-circle turn, running a semicircle round the big, ungainly Seascab.

Slitfang roared back to Grubbage, Take ‘er round, they’ve turned tail on us. Take ‘er round!

Tazzin’s shout cut across the command shrilly. Slitty, git ropes out!

That streamdog’s just pushed the Cap’n an’ Prince Bladd overboard.

They’re in the sea!

Shogg had cut Plugg and Bladd’s bonds before he kicked them off the stern into the waves. Both beasts were floundering, waving wildly as the Seascab’s bow waves washed over them.

Bring ‘er about! Glubbleubble! Throw me a line, ye swabs!

Gallugallug! Help, I’m drownink, I cannot svim! Slitfang kept the battle-axe pressed against Kurda’s spine. Cap’n’s in the water, bring

‘er about quick! Ripper, Scummy, get those lines to midships. Yew ‘ang on, Cap’n, we’ll get ye out o’ there!

Kroova sent the vessel skimming and skipping over wave-crests, sailing dead east on the powerful sweep of a heavy running floodtide. Triss bared her teeth as she watched Bladd and Plugg being hauled aboard the Seascab. I would’ve liked to have tied a stone to that white ferret’s r>aws!

Shogg winked at the squirrelmaid. No ye wouldn’t Triss, yore made o’

better stuff than that. When the right day arrives, we’ll take our revenge face-to-face an’ sword-to-sword.

Triss’s paw trembled as she patted her friend’s back. You’re right, Shogg. 1 just felt so angry at letting him go that I had to say something.

Right now we’re relying on you and Kroova to lead them a dance around the reefs and shallows, where they can’t follow us.

Shogg sat down next to Kroova and placed his paw on the tiller. They looked ahead at the pounding surf breaking on the shore.

Shogg spoke. Due east, dead ahead, eh, mate?

Kroova nodded. Dead ahead it is, mate, let’s do it together!

Sagax was bending his back, straining against the humming sailropes, when he straightened up, alarmed. Dead ahead will take us crashing straight onto the shore. You’ll run us aground!

Triss blinked against the sun rising in splendour to the east. Oh, no it won’t. I know what you rascals are up to. Tell him, goon.

Both the otter’s paws were clasped on the tiller, as Kroova told Sagax what was on their minds. There’s one place that big ship don’t ‘ave a chance o’ follerin’ us, mate. Straight up the stream across the shore!

Scarum’s ears stood straight up in alarm. I say, steady on chaps, bit risky, ain’t it? What about the jolly old Stop-dog? I know she’s burned out, but the blinkin’ wreckage is still lyin’ in that stream. I mean, won’t that stop us, wot?

Shogg kept his eyes on the coastline ahead. Not at the rate we’ll be goin’, mate. I ‘ad it in me mind to do this afore we ever boarded this craft to rescue ye. It’ll take all of me an’ Kroova’s skills, but we’ll run on that floodtide like a pike after a waterfly. We’ll either crash through that wreckage or sink. Either way, ‘tis the best course to leave Plugg’s ship be’ind!

Scarum looked around for something to nibble on, but could find nothing in the way of food to comfort him. Good grief, is that really the plan, Kroova?

The otter nodded. Once we’re past that wreckage, we’ll row an’ sail into the woodlands, through the stream current. It’ll be tough goin’, so git yoreself ready for action.

The young hare’s ears drooped mournfully. Huh, should’ve told old Pluggface to pack us a lunch. I’ll face any jolly thing on a full stomach, y’know.

Triss could not help chuckling as she asked Sagax, How could anybeast think of food at a time like this? Is Scarum always hungry?

The badger answered the question with another question. Does night follow day?

Kurda was still perched on the Seascab’s bows, watching the smaller craft’s progress. She turned anxiously to Plugg, who was standing nearby, draped in a blanket and swigging hot grog.

Dey go straight ‘head, sailink for der stream, you fink?

She recoiled as the silver fox belched a fraction from her nose. He did not seem unduly worried. Aye, that’s their liddle game. At first I though they’d sail in among the reefs, but they couldn’t stay there forever. We’d be circlin’, waitin’ for ‘em to come out. You mark my words, missie, if n they plans on makin’ a run up yonder stream, that’ll dome just fine!

Bladd pulled his blanket tighter about him. Taking a sip from a beaker of steaming grog, he coughed and spluttered. How vill it do you just fine, Cap’n?

Snatching the beaker, Plugg drained it at a gulp. One o’ two things, yer princeness: either they’ll miss the channel an’ run ‘er aground, or else they’ll smash the bottom out when they whacks into that burnt ole boat. Either way, we’ll be in plenty o’ time to lay paws on ‘em.

Though I ‘opes they only runs my nice likkle craft aground. I don’t like to see me property damaged, eh, yer ‘igh royalness?

Kurda sneered. Long as ve capture dem, I don’t care!

Plugg pushed by Kurda and shouted out orders. Lay south a point, Grubbage, take ‘er in short o’ that there stream an’ drop anchor. Crew! Stand ready an’ armed to jump ashore an’ grab those imperdent beasts. I’ll h’eddicate that rabbit in the ways of me battle-axe when I lays paws on ‘im. We’ll see ‘ow pretty ‘e talks then!

With a strong breeze at their backs and the tide running high, the two otters held the tiller dead onto the stream mouth, which drew closer by the moment. Sagax dashed up to the bow point, shouting aloud into the bright blue morning, Let’s give her a good old Salamandastron Eu-lalia to send her in, mates!

Triss turned to the hare. I like the sound of thatÑwhat’s a Salamandastron Eulalia?

Scarum explained. Somethin’ to make the jolly old fur stand on end, marm, the battle cry of real warriors. Just yell it out loud and long.

Right ho, chaps, altogether now.

They roared at the top of their lungs as the sleek vessel whipped head-on into the fresh water. Eulaliiii-iaaaaaaaa!

In the narrow mouth, wild following-wave swells drove them like an arrow up the channel.

Because of the time having been spent picking up Plugg and Bladd, the Seascab had lost ground, plus the fact that they had to haul in sail to stop them from running aground in the shallows. All this added up to slow the big ship’s speed. Kurda was dancing with rage.

Look, look, dey vent right into der stream, straight in! Plugg was donning another frock coat, even tattler-looking than the wet one he had cast off. He smirked confidently. Don’t fret yore pretty white ‘ide, dearie, the wrecked boat’ll stop ‘em, won’t it, Slitty?

Slitfang nodded dutifully. Aye, Cap’n. What he did not say was that the Freebooters had hauled quite a bit of it, still burning, to feed their fire the previous night.

Ripper raised a paw, but dropped it at a glare from Slit-fang, who muttered, Shut yore gob or ‘e’ll skin us both!

As the Seascab sailed in closer to land, Plugg went aft to question Grubbage, shouting down the deaf rat’s ear, ’Ow far up the stream d’ye reckon that wreck is?

Grubbage winced. Ye don’t need t’shout so loud, Cap’n. They’re about right at that spot now.

I’d say they’ve gone clear past it!

Plugg looked sharply at Riggan the slavecatcher, who had just made the remark. An’ how d’ye figger that out?

Riggan pointed overboard at the broken and burned struts of timber floating in the shallows. She observed drily, I watched that float out o’ the stream mouthÑthat means they’ve broke through an’ passed the place. The fire prob’ly burned right through the ketch an’ broke ‘er up afore they arrived,

A few of the crew standing about nodded guiltily. Aye, yore right there, matey, she burned right through!

Plugg kicked out at them and cuffed a few ears. Then why didn’t ye say, why didn’t anybeast tell me, eh? Get over the side an’ catch ‘em, the useless lot o’ ye!

Several Freebooters promptly leaped overboard, but the water closed in over their heads. Grubbage watched them. Water ain’t shallow enough yet, Cap’n. We needs t’be closer in t’shore.

Kurda came running to berate the Captain. Iz too deep ‘ere. Ve need to be closer in!

Leaning over the rail, Plugg buried his face in both paws. You ‘eard

‘er, Grubbage, take the ship in closer to shore.

Grubbage manoeuvred the tiller, muttering darkly, I ain’t throwin’ my clothes ashore fer nobeast. I’ll just take ‘er in closer to the beach!

Poling and paddling energetically, the friends took their vessel into the high, sandy canyon walls of the dunes. Scarum paused to swat at a curious fly.

Shove off, you bounder, go an’ eat somebeast who’s fatter.

Triss could see the Seascab drifting to a halt, side-on, far down at the tideline. Scarum, don’t stop to argue with insects. Keep poling!

Sagax could see overhanging tree foliage further ahead. We’ll be in the woodlands soonÑkeep going, mates. Kroova, have they left the ship yet? Are they ashore?

The otter took a quick glance. One or two of’em. Wait, they’re lowerin’

the ship’s boat!

Plugg sat in the jollyboat facing Kurda and Bladd as it splashed gently into the water. Slitfang, git yoreself in’ere, you’ll be rowin’. Tazzin, Grubbage, Ripper, yore at the oars, too. Come on, move!

An’ vot about mine captain and Ratguards?

Plugg leaned back in the most comfortable seat. Oh, them, they can run both sides o’ the bank wid the rest o’ my crew. If’n yew wants ter give up yore seat to another beast, you’ll’ave t’get out an’ walk too. I ain’t takin’ on any more passengers. Wot d’you say, Bladd, me ole mate, eh?

The fat Prince snorted indignantly. I not gettink out der boat for others, let dem valk!

The silver fox toyed with his battle-axe, teasing Kurda. Yew travel in style, me beauty, wid yore beloved brother an’ yore dear old uncle Plugg. Don’t fret now, we’ll punish those naughty slaves an’ get my nice likkle boat back.

Kurda smiled back at the Freebooter. An’ ven’tis all over, you deliver me back to mine father?

The Freebooter winked broadly at her. Why, bless yore’eart, pretty one, of course I will!

Kurda’s eyes went cold. Gutt, den I vill see him hang you in chains over his gates.

31

Sunshine and shadow dappled through the trees onto the stream’s surface.

It was far more calm running in the woodlands. Shogg took down the sail and furled it. The others kept rowing and poling, with Scarum expounding his list of complaints.

I say, my bloomin’ paws are jolly well sore, must be worn down to the flippin’ bones by now. Blisters on top of my blisters, that’s what I’ve got!

Sagax poled stoically onward. Should have blisters on your tongue, the way you’re yammering on there. Give it a rest.

However, Scarum was not to be deterred so easily. A rest? Jolly good idea, if y’ask me. A rest and a whacking great feed. We’re going to have to stop soon and eat, y’know. It’s not fair, a chap starvin’ to death, all because a few mangy vermin are chasing us. Can’t one of you bright sparks think of somethin’ to slow’em up or put’em off a bit, wot?

Sagax snorted. We could always chuck you overboard like we did those other two. That’d slow them up.

Kroova stumbled as his pole hit a root.

Shogg peered through the crystal-clear water. Look! See that root running across the bottom of the streambed?

There’s lots of ‘em from the trees on the bank. Just the sort o’ thing we need, mates.

Picking up the broken oarshaft that he had used as a weapon earlier, Shogg felt the broken end; it tapered down to a blunt point. The broken oar was almost as tall as he was. Kroova, I think we need two otters for this job, matey.

They huddled together at the stern of the boat, whispering. Shogg had his knife out, whittling the broken end of the oar to a point until it began to resemble a sharp wooden stake. Kroova leaned over, peering steadily down into the stream.

There, that’s the place. Come on, we got work t’do. Sagax, keep ‘er goin’ upstream, don’t stop. We’ll join ye later, won’t be long.

With scarcely a ripple, both otters slid overboard into the stream.

Scarum glanced astern. D’you think they’ve spotted a good fat fish?

I’m famishedÑthe jolly old turn’s making an awful noise, wot?

The hungry hare was a constant source of amusement to Triss, who smiled as Sagax berated him: Listen, twiddly ears, stop moaning about your stomach and get this vessel moving. We’re deadbeasts if those vermin catch up with us. You don’t hear Triss and me complaining all the time.

Now, get on with it!

Scarum poled away resentfully, chunnering to himself, Huh, you don’t complain, ‘cos you’re not a hare. We’re noble beasts, with bloomin’

noble appetites, too. Blinkin’ badgers an’ squirrels can live on a pawful of nothin’, but not this mother’s child. I need a good six square meals a day, at least!

Triss whispered in his ear sympathetically, I know they don’t understand you, but don’t fret. Keep working and I’ll personally see that you get a good big feed as soon as we get time to rest.

As Sagax watched Scarum poling diligently away, he spoke out of the side of his mouth to the squirrelmaid.

Look, he’s stopped complaining. I could never get him to work like that.

What did you say to him, Triss?

Oh, I just told him I’d get him something to eat as soon as we get the chance.

The badger shook his great striped head. You might be sorry you said that.

The deck shook as Kroova and Shogg leaped aboard. Scarum noticed immediately that they had returned empty-pawed.

Flamin’ bounders, I thought you were bringin’ back that big fat fish as a surprise for me!

Shogg patted the hare’s back. Sorry, mate, we left the surprise back there for those vermin to find.

Plugg Firetail had the ship’s jollyboat speeding like an arrow upstream.

His method was simple; The moment his four rowers showed signs of tiring, he sent them ashore to run along the banksides and chose four fresh vermin to replace them.

Princess Kurda sat stonefaced as the Freebooter harangued four of her own Ratguards scornfully. Row, ye lily-livered swabsÑcorne on, bend yore backs an’ pull those oars. Youse rats’ve had an easy life, yore all fat’n’lazy. I’ll show ye ‘ow a Freebooter works. Row, ye slab-sided, bottle-nosed bangtails, yer not bowin’ an’ scrapin’ to a princess now, yore rowin’ a boat!

Bladd giggled. He liked the Captain’s colourful curses, Yarr, you row like de Capting say, bottle-nosed svabs! Yowch! Capting, Kurda pinch me vit ‘er sharp claws.

The Princess glared hatefully at her fat brother. Shut your slobberin’

face, stupid, or I t’row you overboard!

Plugg shook a paw at her, his voice dripping sarcasm. Now, now, beauty, ye shouldn’t be usin’ language like that to yore dear brother. Come on, kiss ‘im an’ make up.

Bladd recoiled in disgust. Yekk, she not kissin’ me!

The silver fox rounded on the four rats at the oars. Who told you idle scum t’stop rowin’, eh? Now put some energy into it, afore I chop off yore tails an’ make ye eat’em. Row, ye pickle-pawed oafs!

Oars dipped swift and deep as the jollyboat sped from the dune canyons into the sheltering shade of woodlands. Plugg reached up and snapped off a long green willow branch. First one I spot idlin’ gets a taste o’ this!

Vorto called across the bank to Riggan, who was trotting along the other edge, Are we still on their trail?

Plugg interrupted before the slavecatcher could answer. No, matey, they’ve took to the sky an’ they’re flyin’ south like the birds. Idjit!

This is the only way they can go in a boat. Huh, an’ I thought my crew was stupid! He lashed out at the rowers with his willow withe. We should be plunderin’ an’ loadin’ up wid loot, instead o’chasin’ a few lousy slaves.... Aaaaaargh!

Without warning, the rowers had sent the jollyboat speeding straight onto the sharpened wooden stake that Shogg and Kroova had lodged tight between two roots on the streambed. It protruded upward at an angle, facing downstream, the point lurking fractionally below the surface.

As the boat hit the stake, it smashed through the side of the prow like a huge spearpoint. Water came gushing in. Plugg’s agonised scream was not without reasonÑthe stake had gotten him in the lower back, just short of his haunches.

Pandemonium reigned. Kurda seized two of the Rat-guards who had been rowing, screeching at them as the boat rapidly filled up, Get me to de shore, quick!

The two of them bore her to the bank, with the other two carrying Prince Bladd, who was wailing in terror, Don’t let me drop, I cannot svim!

The crew of the Seascab hurled themselves into the stream. Cutlasses and hatchets crashed into the sinking boat timbers as they hacked wildly, striving to free their captain. Plugg had passed out with the pain, and Grub-bage held the silver fox’s head above the waterline.

Gerrim out, mates,’urry, or the Cap’n will get drowned!

Slitfang chopped away madly at the stake, which was holding Plugg in the boat. Tazzin, lend a paw’ere, bring yer dagger or we’ll lose the Cap’n!

They freed Plugg and carried him up to the bank. Scummy the stoat and Grubbage, who both had experience in treating wounds, attended the fox’s limp, wet form, whilst the rest of the crew looked anxiously on. Without a captain, the Freebooters were like lost creatures. Kurda watched them, a smile of pitiless cruelty on her face. Dere is no need for de boat now, so I vill continue hunting der slaves mitt my Ratguards. Yarr, de fox does not have a lot to say now, does he? Tchah!

She spun on her paw, only to find herself surrounded by Freebooters.

Tazzin licked her dagger blade meaningly.

Yew ain’t goin’ anywhere an’ leavin’ us wid a wounded cap’n. We all stays’ere til Plugg’s ready to move, see!

Vorto came hurrying up, with his spear at the ready. Back off, seascum, yew ain’t orderin’ our princess about! Slitfang sneaked up behind and felled Vorto with a hefty blow of his cutlass hilt. Placing a paw on the senseless rat, he leaned across and hissed in Kurda’s face, I’m cap’n while old Plugg’s out of action, an’ I says we stay. If’n ye wants to challenge my order, yer welcome to try. I’ll fix it so you an’ yore rats stays’ere fer good, wid the insects to pick over yore bones. Well?

Kurda dropped her eyes. There was no point in trying to argue with dangerous sea vermin. Yarr, ve stay.

Midafternoon found the five friends taking a cutoff up a sidestream.

Shogg rested his oarpole and listened to the stillness hanging upon the quiet sunny air.

Wot d’ye think, Kroova, did our liddle plan work? The sea otter leaped from the boat to the nearby bank. I think it prob’ly did, mate. Don’t seem to be a sound of anybeast followin’. Can you’ear anythin’, Triss?

Bounding ashore, the squirrelmaid shot up the trunk of a tall elm. She was back down directly. Not a move anywhereÑI think we’re safe for the moment, Right, let’s get some vittles organised, I’m hungry!

Scarum was at her side in the wink of an eye. Well, thank me auntie’s pinny for a handsome gel with a bit o’ sense, wot, excellent suggestion, marm. Capital!

They split up and went foraging into the woodlands, whilst Triss stayed behind to guard their boat.

Sagax was the first to return. He brought some wild berries and a few early plums, which, while sweet, were still quite hard. The two otters arrived next, followed by Scarum, who assessed the fruits of their search.

He was, by turns, both critical and optimistic.

Not bloomin’ much, chaps, is it? A few measly berries, some hard-as-rock plums, a load of roots, dearie me! Still, I suppose we’ll make somethin’

of them once I start cookin’, wot?

Triss shook her head. Sorry, no fires to give off smoke signals. Besides, what would you use for a cooking pot? Scarum’s ears drooped. I thought you were on my side! What in the name of fiddlesticks d’you expect us to do, scoff’em raw an’ drink streamwater? It’s not jolly well civilised.

Sagax pulled the boat into the land and moored it to a tree. Sshh! Listen, can you hear singing?

The strains grew louder and clearer as they listened. From round an upstream bend, four shrew logboats appeared. They were packed with shrew families, singing at the tops of their voices to the accompaniment of drums and tambourines. Stringed instruments blended with the harmonious melody. The shrews did not appear to have a single care in the world.

Summer, summer, what a lazy afternoon,

Music, laughter, sun a-waitin’ for the moon, Twilight, my light, stream is all a-slumber, too, Babes a-sleepin’, willows weepin’, skies so blue.

Nothin’ like a good ole river,

On a sunny afternoon with you,

Sittin’ in a dear ole logboat,

Plunkin’ out a tune or two.

We’ll sail off to a shady bower,

Kettle will be boilin’ soon,

While we sport an’ play, the livelong day, An’ sleep beneath a golden moon.

I’ll find a place so filled with mem’ries, Where the waters kiss the shores,

When yore ma an’ pa ain’t watchin’,

You’ll hold my paw in yours.

Then we’ll have a good ole picnic,

With such nice things to eat,

While the babes all go a-paddlin’,

Let’s dance to the ole drum’s beat.

Summer, summer, what a lazy afternoon,

Music, laughter, sun a-waitin’ for the moon, Twilight, my light, stream is all a-slumber too, Babes a-sleepin’, willows weepin’, skies so blueooooooooooh!

Triss had never seen creatures so happy. There was no question of their being foebeasts. She dashed into the shallows, waving and calling to them, Hello there, good afternoon to you, friends!

A fat shrew wife in flowered pinafore and bonnet waved her parasol back at the squirrelmaid. An’ the same to you, missy, that’s a luvverly boat you got there. Want to tag along an’ join our picnic? There’s plenty for everybeast, yore welcome!

Scarum danced along the bankside, grinning like a buffoon and blowing kisses outrageously. Profusions of thankfulness, gorgeous creature, we accept your wonderful offer gratefully, nay, jubilatorially!

Shogg squinted one eye and scratched his rudder. Ju-bila ... wotsit?

I’d better warn’em not to go downstream, they’ll run into those vermin.

Ahoy, marm, comin’ aboard! He dived into the water, vanished momentarily, then popped up on the logboat’s deck. Beggin’ yore pardon, marm, but we’re bein’ chased by a pack o’ vermin. I wouldn’t go downstream if’n I was you.

A stout old shrew touched his snout respectfully. Thankee for tellin’

us, sir. Looks like we’ll’ave to put about an’ go t’the water meadows.

You follow us in yore pretty boat. Nobeast’ll find ye there, we’ll make sure o’ that. He waved a paw back upstream. Backpaddle, we’re goin’

to the water meadows an’ takin’ these good-beasts in tow. Backpaddle, Guosim!

Poling along behind, they followed the logboats along a series of cutoffs and backwaters. Scarum worked harder than his four companions.

Keep up, chaps, don’t want t’get lost an’ miss the picnic now, do we?

Stop dawdlin’ an’ move yourselves, wot! Scarum had a dreadful singing voice. However, that did not stop him from breaking out into an off-key warble:

O I don’t wish to be rude,

But the very mention of food,

Is the nicest word I’ve heard,

Tumpty tumpty turn turn,