Glenner was a young female otter, one of Skipper’s crew. She was still on walltop patrol, keeping an eye out for gulls or vermin. Glad to be relieved of the monotonous task, she bounded readily down, calling, ‘Good morrow, mates, anythin’ I can do for ye?’
Flicking a pebble into the pond, Tansy watched the ripples spread. ‘Glenner, d’you think there’s a big old grayling in there?’ she asked.
The otter thumped her tail thoughtfully on the bank. ‘I dunno, could be. Skipper always told us when we were young never to disturb big ole fishes, they can be very dangerous an’ bad-tempered. There’s an ole otter poem we had t’learn as young ’uns.
‘Frisk in the water if you wish,
But stay clear of the big ole fish,
‘Specially those with the fin like a sail,
They’re the rogues who’ll take yer tail,
So stay in the shallows an’ bright sunlight,
An’ y’ll live to sleep round the fire at night!’
Rollo drew patterns in the sand with his footpaw. ‘Er, haha, is that what they say, really? Er, I don’t suppose that you’d like to, er, maybe check the pond to see if there is actually a grimling, er, grayjaw, er, big fish living in there?’
Glenner’s reply was cheery and prompt. ‘Cost you a good pan o’ hotroot’n’watershrimp soup, mates. I ain’t riskin’ me pretty young rudder in that pond fer nothin’, oh no!’
Tansy grabbed Glenner’s paw and shook it vigorously. ‘Done! One pan of soup for one pink pearl!’
The otter cocked her head on one side quizzically. ‘Wot pink pearl? Y’never said ought about a pink pearl, matey.’
‘The big pink pearl that’s lying at the bottom of that pond, puddenhead!’ said Piknim. ‘You don’t think we wanted you just to amuse yourself in the water looking for a fish, did you? If a big fish was all we wanted to know about, why, we could’ve tossed in a Dibbun to see if he got eaten, then we’d know there was a big fish in there!’
Chortling, Glenner shoved the mousemaid playfully. ‘Go on with yer, missie, you wouldn’t sling no liddle Dibbun in there. Right, stan’ back, pals, if’n the fish eats me then give my soup to Skipper when he gets back from searchin’ for yore Abbot!’
Glenner took a running dive, slipping into the pond without a single splash. They glimpsed a thin stream of bubbles rising from her chin, then she was gone, lost in the greeny depths. Tansy paced up and down the bank, wondering how anybeast could hold its breath for what seemed an eternity.
‘Glenner should have been up by now,’ she said. ‘I wonder what she’s doing down there? Hope she hasn’t bumped into old Grimjaw . . .’
Like an arrow from a bow, Glenner shot from the pond in a rush of water, springing up onto the bank beside them. ‘Whooh! There’s two graylings down there, mates, I seen ’em!’
Rollo’s glasses slipped from his nose. ‘Two big fish?’
Glenner shook herself, spraying them with a cascade of droplets. ‘Aye, two, though one’s long dead. I swam down to the bottom an’ didn’t see no grayling, just some minnows, roach an’ a gudgeon. Then I spotted ’er, up alongside some boulders, a big tidy-lookin’ female grayling, she was guardin’ the bones o’ Grimjaw ’er mate. He must’ve been a big ’un, too, by the size o’ ’is frame. Looked like he died of ole age an’ the minnows nibbled ’is carcass clean.’
Tansy clapped her paws with excitement. ‘The pearl, did you see the big pink pearl, Glenner?’
‘No, miss, ’fraid I didn’t see no pearl. Does that mean I don’t get me pot o’ soup?’
Rollo polished his glasses carefully. ‘Sorry, not until we get the pink pearl.’
Glenner winked at them, banging the last droplets from her sturdy rudderlike tail. ‘So be it, we’ll ’ave to figger out a way t’keep the female grayling off my back, so I can search proper for yore pink pearl. Get me a good long staff. Ha! that punt pole will do. Now, let’s get the punt over t’this bank where the shallows are clear, and stan’ it up on its side. No big fish is goin’ t’do Glenner out o’ a pot o’ hotroot’n’watershrimp soup made in Redwall’s kitchen.’
Craklyn turned to Piknim, bewildered. ‘What in the name of crab apples is that crazy otter up to?’
Tansy took them by the paws and headed for the punt. ‘Don’t ask silly questions. Whatever it is, I’m willing to give it a try. Come on, you two!’
21
THERE WERE TWO hilltops close to the northern inlet of Sampetra. Hardly a blade of grass stirred in the warm humid morning as Rasconza the fox and the rebel crews stood on top of one hill, facing Ublaz and his guard of Trident-rats and Monitors waiting on the other. The Emperor moved first, descending alone into the valley between both hills; Rasconza watched him a moment then followed suit. Ublaz sat down upon the grass, placing his only weapon, the silver dagger, on the ground in front of him. Rasconza unbuckled his belt with the ten daggers it held and slung the lot down, then he sat.
The mad-eyed Emperor smiled broadly. ‘You carry a lot of blades, Rasconza.’
The corsair fox matched his smile, but avoided his eyes. ‘Aye, an’ I can use ’em, too, Ublaz!’
The Emperor placed his silver dagger on top of Rasconza’s weaponry. ‘Then take mine as a token of our friendship, for we did not come here today to talk of using knives, my friend.’
Rasconza flipped the dagger into the air and caught it deftly. ‘Hah! A pretty toy, thankee. Oh, I’m fergettin’ me manners, exchange of gifts, ’ere’s somethin’ fer you.’
A gauzy silken scarf landed wisplike in the pine marten’s lap. He picked it up and admired it. ‘Fine silk, hmm, green suits me, too. Does this gift signify anything? Is there a meaning behind it?’
Rasconza continued flipping the silver blade, watching it glitter in the sunlight.
‘Oh, it signifies right enough, Ublaz. Wot you do is you puts it over yore face. That way you can see me, ’cos ’tis only thin silk, but I won’t be lookin’ into yore eyes. Aye, I’ve ’eard all about those glims o’ yourn, an’ I don’t intend starin’ into ’em an’ losin’ control o’ my mind!’
Ublaz bound the scarf lightly across his eyes, chuckling. ‘A wise move, fox, very wise indeed! I can see I’m going to enjoy business dealings with you. Now, what is it you want?’
This time Rasconza did not catch the dagger. It landed point down in the ground. ‘The cap’ns are all dead,’ he said. ‘I meself slew Barranca, but you know that. So, I’m in charge of all the crews now an’ I want peace. There’s no profit in both sides killin’ each other off. ’ere’s my proposition. You appoint me Grand Cap’n of all the ships in ’arbour an’ I’ll serve yer.’
‘Forgive my asking,’ Ublaz interrupted, ‘but how can you captain six ships at once?’
Rasconza shook his head. ‘I don’t want ter cap’n all six. Bloodkeel’s a good craft, she’s my old ship, I’ll take ’er. The other cap’ns I’ll appoint from the crewbeasts, but I’ll be the boss cap’n, and they’ll take their orders from me when we’re at sea. You’ll control all on land. This is the way it’ll work. I’ll increase the tribute each ship ’as to pay, and we’ll split it two ways, me’n’you, an’ none the wiser. Of course you’ll ’ave t’get off’n those timber stocks yore sittin’ on, there ain’t no more good wood on Sampetra an’ the ship’ll need wood fer repairs. Agreed?’
Ublaz spat on his paw and held it forth. ‘Agreed!’
Rasconza also spat on his paw and clasped with the pine marten. ‘Haharr, you won’t regret this day’s work, matey!’
Behind the gauzy silk scarf the mad eyes glinted dangerously. ‘I’m sure I won’t . . . matey!’
Then, removing the scarf, Ublaz stood and hailed his guard. ‘Nobeast will harm the crews, they can return to the harbour and use the taverns or board their ships as they please. You are not to fight with them; there is a truce. If you have any complaints against them, report to Rasconza, he is their leader. Disobey and you will answer to me. I am your Emperor, Ublaz. I have spoken!’
Late that evening the vermin crews roistered and sang in the harbour area of Sampetra. Only the fox Rasconza sat alone, brooding in the captain’s cabin aboard Bloodkeel. Once he had been a mere bosun on this same vessel, now he was Captain in Chief of six ships. But a nagging thought had entered his mind as he went back over the day’s events. It had all been too simple, Ublaz had agreed to his terms too readily . . . Why?
Ublaz sat upon his throne sipping wine, satisfied that he had defeated seven enemies in short time. Now he had only the fox to contend with. Easy game! The Emperor liked easy games, though he often cheated to win.
Martin and his friends had taken to the ditch, following Skipper as he tracked Lask Frildur and his company through Mossflower. The otter Chieftain halted and cast about looking for a sign, saying, ‘Well, mates, ole Lask’s learnin’ a bit o’ sense. See here, they’ve tried to cover their tracks, look, pawmarks. I reckon this is where they’ve climbed out o’ the ditch an’ prob’ly ’eaded west o’er yon field into the woods.’
Martin inspected the scratchmarks carefully. ‘I think you’re right, Skip. Once in the woods they’d find the river and follow it to the sea.’
With a leap and a bound, Clecky was out of the ditch into the field. ‘C’mon, chaps, after the scurvy bounders, wot!’
A slingstone whizzed out of nowhere, bouncing close to the hare’s footpaw. He jumped back into the ditch with great alacrity. ‘Ambush, chaps! Blinkin’ nerve of the bottle-nosed blighters!’
The Warriormouse peered over the ditchtop, across the sunlit field, still sparkling with dew, to the shaded woodland fringe. There was no visible movement anywhere. ‘As you said, Skip, the lizard is learning sense. He’s left a rearguard behind to slow us up. They’re in the woods somewhere, too well hidden for us to see.’
Gerul provided a swift solution to the problem. ‘With yer permission, sir, I’ll fly meself up high an’ see if I can’t spot the ould vermin.’
Before Martin could agree, the barn owl winged out over the field. As Gerul swooped low towards the trees he was struck by a heavy slingstone; he fell in a jumble of feathers. Immediately three gulls came screeching out of the tree cover and attacked Gerul as he lay dazed upon the ground.
Regardless of their own safety, Martin, Skipper and Clecky charged from the ditch, roaring.
‘Redwaaaaaalllll!’
A Monitor and four searats loosed slingstones at them as they ran. The three friends separated, ducking and dodging, but still going forward. A well-hurled javelin from Skipper took one of the gulls out, then, with only his loaded sling, the otter Chieftain made a mad dash and flung himself upon the Monitor. Before the searats could come to the lizard’s aid, Martin was among them with his sword. Clecky dropped his bow and arrows and, diving at the remaining two seagulls, he lashed out fiercely with his lethal long legs, protecting the fallen owl with his body.
The encounter was short and savage, with Martin and his friends emerging victorious, though one of the searats and a seagull escaped and fled off into the woodlands. But winning had its price. Gerul had been severely injured by the slingstone and the ravaging beaks of the gulls. Clecky made him comfortable whilst Martin attended to Skipper.
The otter had slain the carnivorous reptile with only a loaded sling and his natural strength. Skipper sat gasping, his back against a sycamore. Martin was horrified at the awful wounds inflicted by the Monitor’s teeth and raking claws.
The otter winced as he grinned broadly, making a joke of the whole thing. ‘Uuuuhh! I don’t think I could manage t’fight another one of those rascals today, mate!’
Martin tore his cloak into strips, calling to Clecky, ‘How is Gerul, is he all right?’
The barn owl flapped a wing limply. ‘Arr, I’ll live, sir, though me ould wing is as much use as feathers on a fish, so ’tis.’
Clecky was using the last of Gerul’s sanicle on his friend’s wounds. ‘Be still, you boulder-beaked curmudgeon, here, put y’talon on this while I bandage it, you great feather-faced frump. Got y’self in a nice old mess, m’laddo, haven’t you, wot!’
When the two casualties were cleaned up and bandaged, Martin looked at them despairingly. ‘You two aren’t fit to carry on. We’ll have to get you back to Redwall and some proper nursing.’
Skipper struggled upright, glaring fiercely at his friend. ‘Oh no you won’t, matey. Yore job is to get the Abbot an’ that liddle bankvole free. As fer me an’ this bird, we can make our own way back t’the Abbey, can’t we, matey?’
Gerul wobbled his way over to Skipper, and they stood supporting each other.
‘Sure will y’look at the pair of us now, between us we make an owlotter, whatever that is, but don’t you worry, sir, as me ould mother used t’say, the road may be long but it doesn’t get any shorter by standin’ gossipin’, so we’re off to Redwall now. Look after me friend Clecky an’ treat him kindly, but don’t turn yer back on him if there’s food about, oh no, sir!’
The hare sniffed. ‘Thank you for those few kind words, you feather-bottomed old fraud. See you back at the jolly old Abbey in a few days, wot!’
Martin could not suppress a smile as the two casualties staggered off across the field wing in paw, chattering animatedly as they hobbled along together.
‘Ouch! I think I’m goin’ to need great pots of soup an’ lots of elderberry wine afore I’m right again, Gerul!’
‘Isn’t that a fact, sir, an’ as for meself I think pasties an’ puddens with a barrel or two of the good October Ale will put the sheen back upon me feathers, indeed, so they will!’
Clecky twitched his ears fondly, waving goodbye to his companion. ‘Huh! D’y’know, I’d swear that chap’s fakin’. Got himself wounded just so’s he can fill his face at Redwall an’ not share any of it with me. Typical of the blighter!’
Martin gave the hare’s tunic a sharp tug. ‘Remember what Gerul’s old mother used to say, the road may be long, but it doesn’t get any shorter by standing gossiping. Come on, let’s get after Lask Frildur!’
22
TWILIGHT WAS FALLING over the sea, and red sunrays cast a fiery path across the ebbing tide off the coast of Mossflower country. Aboard Waveworm the ferret Romsca leaned over the stern, scanning the darkening shore in company with her steersrat Bladetail.
‘Where in the name o’ gutrubbin’s ’ave those seagulls got to?’ she grumbled. ‘I only told ’em to fly back an’ see if Lask was on ’is way.’
Bladetail spat reflectively into the water. ‘May’ap ole Lask kept them with ’im for some purpose.’
He turned and cast a glance towards the two prisoners huddled together on a heap of sailsheet amidships. ‘Those Monitors are pesterin’ yer liddle vole agin, Cap’n.’
Viola hid her face against the Abbot’s robe, shaking with fear as a Monitor poked his evil head close to her, grinning and grinding his teeth, enjoying the volemaid’s distress. ‘Tazty vole, you will tazte nizzzze!’
Against her instincts, Romsca had found herself feeling protective towards Viola and the Abbot. She had spent the whole day keeping the lizards from tormenting the captives, and suddenly her temper rose. Whipping out her sword, she strode up on the unsuspecting Monitor and kicked him sprawling. Belabouring the reptile with the flat of her blade, Romsca snarled, ‘Keep yer foulsmellin’ snout away from the maid, scalescum!’
The Monitor scrambled upright, teeth bared, claws raised defiantly. ‘I do az I pleaze, ferret. Lazk Frildur givez me my orderz!’ He made as if to push Romsca out of the way, but the corsair moved with lightning speed, bulling the Monitor backward to the rail.
‘Well, ’ere’s an order from me, scalebrain,’ she snarled. ‘Die!’ With a swift thrust she ran him through and tipped him overboard. Then she whirled on the other Monitors, pointing her sword. ‘That goes fer the rest of you thick’eaded lizards! Stay away from the maid or y’ll join yer mate there!’
Abbot Durral whispered softly to Viola, ‘Romsca is not totally against us. We may have a friend.’
&n
bsp; For a moment it looked as if the remaining Monitors were about to rush Romsca, but a sharp whistle from Bladetail brought the rest of the vermin crew on deck, fully armed. The corsair captain grinned invitingly at the lizards.
‘Come on, yer beauties, want to try yer luck with us, do yer?’ she baited them. ‘I’ll have yer guts fer garters an’ yer tripes fer supper!’
‘Ahoy, Waveworm, throw us a line! We’re comin’ aboard!’
Bladetail saw the group standing in the shallows. ‘It’s Lask Frildur an’ the others at last!’
Shivering from the water, Lask pulled himself on board Waveworm. He glared at Romsca, demanding, ‘Whatz going on, why is a Monitor dead in the waterz?’
The ferret turned her bladepoint towards the Monitor General. ‘I slew ’im fer interferin’ with the prisoners. I’m cap’n aboard this ship. You took yer time gettin’ ’ere – wot kept yer?’
Lask pointed back to the shore. ‘Creaturez from Redwall are after uz. I left five and the three gullz to hold them off. I do not know how many they are!’
Romsca snapped orders to her crew. ‘Up anchor an’ let ’er drift further offshore fer safety. See, Lask, I told yer those Redwallers were fighters.’
Grath Longfletch crouched low in her longboat, watching Waveworm from a distance. It was drifting from its original mooring, further out to sea. A long shout like a warcry rang out from the shore.
‘Eulaliaaaaaa!’
In the falling light, Grath saw the steersrat Bladetail topple over the stern, pierced by an arrow from the shore. A stoat leapt up on the stern, whirling a slingshot to retaliate. Grath decided to help out. Grabbing her bow, she placed a shaft on the string and whipped it back.
Lask watched in surprise as an arrow seemed to grow out of the stoat’s skull. Pandemonium broke out aboard Waveworm as the vermin staggered backward and fell to the deck. Lask Frildur dashed into his cabin and slammed the door, and the other Monitors ran for cover.
Slashing the air with her blade, Romsca roared out orders. ‘Take ’er out deeper where arrers can’t reach! Make some sail that’ll move us along faster! Break out some boat’ooks an’ longpikes in case they tries t’board us! Stir yer stumps!’