Page 20 of The Legend of Luke


  Cardo cast a withering glance up at Beau. ‘Oh, just like that?’

  The hare was now clinging to the mainmast top, one paw shading his eyes as he gazed eagerly all around. ‘Well of course just like that, y’silly fat mouse. Hello there, chaps, is that a smudge way out to the south-west? Land ho! Or at least I’ll bet it’s somethin’ jolly close to land. Hah, well done that hare! Mentioned in dispatches, maybe jot down a line o’ praise or two in the ship’s log at the very least!’

  Luke shoved Denno playfully. ‘Y’see, matey, told you I wouldn’t have a word said against ole Beau! Cordle, set a course sou’west. If that’s land we might make it before tomorrow mornin’.’

  Tacking against the prevailing breezes, the Sayna lay off the island three hours before dawn. A huge cone, of what Luke took to be an extinct volcano, reared dark and forbidding against the night sky. Though it was difficult to see much in the darkness, Beau noted that there were forests of trees growing on the slopes and a shoreline of kinds. Luke spoke his thoughts to the hare as he sized up the situation.

  ‘We’d best stay offshore until ’tis light – there might be reefs ’twixt here an’ the beach. Don’t see any signs o’ life ashore, but we’d best not chance anythin’ until daylight. You go an’ get a bit o’ shuteye with the crew, Beau, I’ll call ye when ’tis light.’

  ‘Wouldn’t think of it, old lad. You and I shall stand watch together, ’til the ravenwinged shades of night are flown and earth is reborn in fiery sunlight to day!’

  Luke leaned on the taffrail, eyes searching the shoreline. ‘Well said, Beau, very poetic, mate.’

  The talkative hare perked up. ‘Thank ye kindly, Luke. I’m rather glad you appreciate poetry. Here’s a modest effort I composed m’self, to while away the hours back on my island. “A mole and a duck went strolling one day—”’

  Luke’s strong paws clamped round Beau’s jaws, holding his mouth tight shut. ‘Either be quiet or go t’sleep. If you don’t I’ll put ye to sleep with a belayin’ pin!’

  As dawn broke Luke roused the crew, and they sailed cautiously in towards the shore. Now the island could be viewed clearly. The beach was dark bluey-black volcanic sand. A thin plume of white smoke drifted lazily from the top of the rock cone which dominated the place, denoting that the volcano was not altogether extinct. Purple and scarlet flowers bloomed thick in the foothills, and many of the trees had huge spear-shaped leaves. It was an exotic scene, though the total silence made it rather sinister. As Vurg watched the Sayna’s prow nose into the sandy shallows, he conveyed his misgivings to Luke.

  ‘I’m gettin’ that same feelin’ I had last time we came to an island – I don’t like it, matey. Too quiet for a place that looks so fertile. There’s got to be some sort o’ creatures livin’ here!’

  Luke pointed to the shore. ‘You’re right, Vurg. See there? Slightly above the tideline? What d’you make o’ that?’

  Beau elbowed his way to the prow. ‘A great pile o’ fruit! The creatures must be jolly friendly leavin’ a gift like that for us.’

  Luke frowned. ‘Too friendly, perhaps. Let’s not be too hasty. There’s something about this little offering that doesn’t ring true.’

  But Beau was already leaping the side. ‘C’mon, you chaps! I’ll be food taster. My stomach’s as steady as a jolly old rock, wot wot.’

  Before Luke could stop them, most of the crew had followed the hare, bounding overboard into the shallows and splashing ashore towards the heap of luscious fruit piled on the beach. Vurg chuckled as the hare picked a grape, tossed it and caught it deftly in his mouth. He waited a few seconds and then waved a large bunch of wild grapes at the ship. ‘Still standin’, me hearties. Delicious! C’mon, everyone, tuck in!’

  Luke and Vurg watched as they all pounced hungrily on the mysterious gift. ‘Ahoy, Beau,’ called Vurg. ‘Bring some back for us.’

  ‘Right y’are, Vurg. I say, chuck the empty casks overboard an’ we’ll see if we can find a stream to fill ’em from.’

  Being the only two left on board, Vurg and Luke rolled all the casks out and tipped them over the side. Vurg tied the tiller in position so the ship would not drift.

  ‘I was wrong, Luke. This island seems quite friendly now. P’raps Beau was right, an’ whoever left the fruit out doesn’t mean us any harm. Mayhap they’ll show themselves before the day’s out.’

  A stream of freshwater actually flowed across the shore, not far from the heap of fruit. Dulam and Cardo filled the casks and got them back to the ship. Luke rigged a rope through the mainsail’s top block, and between them he and Vurg hoisted the casks of water aboard. Dulam and Cardo waded back to join their friends ashore.

  Luke called after them. ‘Make the most of it. Tell the crew I want them back on deck by sunset. We sail at first tide tomorrow.’

  Luke was busy stowing the casks in the galley when Vurg shouted urgently from out on deck. ‘Onshore, mate. Come an’ see!’ He left what he was doing and hurried out.

  Some of the crew were lying down amid the fruit, some were sitting aimlessly nearby, whilst one or two of the remainder were staggering oddly about. All appeared to have slack grins on their faces. Luke yelled, ‘Ahoy, Coll, Dulam, Beau, what’s the matter, mates?’

  Dulam collapsed on the sand, Coll fell on top of him, only Beau remained standing. The hare gave a faint giggle, tried to wave, then his legs gave out and he sat down awkwardly, staring at the ship, smiling foolishly.

  Luke smote the taffrail. ‘That fruit, I should’ve known it. C’mon, Vurg!’

  But Vurg was pointing to where the foothills met the shore. ‘Wait, those bushes are movin’!’

  Halfway over the side, Luke checked himself. He could scarce believe his eyes. The entire hillside had come to life, literally hundreds of bushes were moving across the shore in a massive screen of foliage. On instinct he leaped back aboard and dragged Vurg down flat.

  A veritable hail of missiles struck the boat: arrows, javelins, spears and stones. Drums began pounding aloud and an eerie wailing rose from the bushes, followed by another salvo of missiles. Luke grabbed a long boathook.

  ‘Get your spear, Vurg. Pole her off into deeper water.’

  Scurrying forward, they pushed the vessel into the ebb tide, grunting with exertion as they pressed hard against their poles. An arrow thwacked into Vurg’s shoulder, and Luke ignored a deep javelin graze across his cheek.

  ‘Push, Vurg, let’s give it all we’ve got, mate!’

  The Sayna’s keel scraped free of the sand. Luke dashed recklessly astern and slashed the rope which held the tiller rigid. Wheeling sideways, the Sayna caught the tide. Luke flattened himself as another rain of death peppered the ship, then she was bow out, sailing free. Arrows, sticking up from the deck timbers as if from a pincushion, snapped against Luke’s footpaws as he dashed back to Vurg’s side.

  Wincing, the brave mouse tugged the shaft from his shoulder. ‘Lucky that arrow’s flight was near spent an’ my tunic’s a good thick ’un. I’m not bad hurt, Luke, what about you?’

  Luke pawed blood from the cut on his cheek. ‘Only a scratch, mate, I’ll live. Whoever they are ’tis plain they can’t shoot straight. Great seasons, look!’

  Vurg stared in amazement at the diminishing shoreline. Silent and deserted the beach lay, as if nobeast had ever been there. All that remained was a pile of squashed fruit. Vurg turned in bewilderment to his friend. ‘Where’ve they gone? Denno, Cordle, Beau, the whole crew are gone. What do we do now?’

  Grim-faced, Luke gazed at the shoreline, his warrior blood pounding furiously as he strove to control himself. ‘Let’s make sail, it’ll look as if we’re runnin’ away. We’ll wait ’til dark, Vurg, then we’ll go back an’ get ’em!’

  Drums pounded everywhere. At first, Cardo thought they were inside his skull, causing the massive headache which woke him. However, he saw that they were all too real when he opened his eyes. It was a scene that turned his blood to ice water, though strangely, everything was wrong side up.
Like the rest of his crewmates, he had been bound tight and slung lengthways on a stout pole, so that his head hung down. The poles had been hoisted up on ropes, close to the ceiling of a big cave, with a fire burning at its centre. Rock ledges had been carved around the cave walls in tiers, and these were crowded with hundreds of small fierce ratlike rodents, unlike any Cardo had ever seen. They were covered with intricate patterns of red, orange and white dyes, with clattering seashells affixed to ears, paws and tails.

  At the rear of the cave were two massive drums, atop of which forty or fifty of the rodents performed a stamping dance. The sound boomed and banged relentlessly, increased fourfold as it echoed around the cave’s interior. Crouching by the fire was a figure far larger than the rest, obviously a female weasel, draped from ears to tail with long necklaces and bracelets made from painted crab claws. Her face was daubed thick with white clay, black charcoal lines accentuating the features.

  Beau was hanging alongside Cardo. He opened his eyes, looked around, then squinched his ears flat peevishly and called downward to the rodents, ‘Put a flippin’ bung in it, you chaps, wot! Those drums are makin’ my old noggin throb dreadfully. I say there, you! Yes you marm, tell these blighters t’desist. Hmph! Rank bad manners t’go thumpin’ drums like that when a body’s feelin’ out o’ sorts. Now pack it jolly well in!’

  As if by magic complete silence fell. The remainder of the crew had awakened, and Beau winked at them knowingly. ‘Voice of command an’ discipline, that’s the thing t’give the blinkin’ troops, wot wot!’

  The weasel sprang upright. Grabbing a long wand ornamented with dried sea urchins, she shook it, pointing first at the captives, then to somewhere at the back of the cave between the two drums, and finally making a long sweeping gesture at the crammed masses of rodents.

  ‘Rabbatooma! Slarissssssss! Ya Aggoreema!’

  This seemed to drive the rodents into a frenzy. They laughed savagely, howling back at their leader, ‘Ya Marrahagga! Slarissssssss! Ko, Slarissssssss!’

  Coll strained his head over towards Beau. ‘Huh, ’ope you ain’t said the wrong thing, mate.’

  The hare was quite indignant. ‘Wrong thing, laddie? Me? I should say not. Tact an’ diplomacy are the pawmark of us Cosfortinghams. Hang on a tick, I’ll have a word with that vermin lady, see what the position is as regards loosin’ us from our bonds, wot. Now then, my good villainess, d’you think y’could spare a few of those runty types to unbind me’n’my stalwart comrades? Sort of save us hangin’ around, pardon the pun.’

  Ignoring the hare’s request, the weasel crouched and began making mysterious weaving patterns upon the cave floor with her wand. The small ratlike creatures pointed at the captives and chanted aloud, ‘Ko Slarissssss Rabbatooma! Slarissssss eeeeeeyoh!’

  Denno shook a droplet of perspiration from his nose-tip. ‘Phew! I’m roasted!’

  Dulam closed his eyes, as if trying to block out his thoughts. ‘Quiet, mate. That could be a bad choice o’ words. They might be flesh eaters.’

  Now the rodents who had been dancing on the drumheads deserted their posts, swiftly scrambling on to the ledges alongside the rest. Casting something into the fire, the weasel caused the flames to burn green. Then she went to the drums and began tapping her wand alternately against the side of each one, calling out in a sibilant voice, ‘Slarissssss Slarisssssss Slarisssssssssss!’

  Ever the optimist, Beau suggested brightly, ‘D’y’know, I’m not familiar with their lingo, but I’ll wager Slariss is some sort o’ greeting, like how d’ye do, or good evenin’, chaps. P’raps I’d better return the compliment, show some manners, wot. I say, marm, Slariss t’you too. Slarissssssssssss. Howzat?’

  From a hidden opening behind the two drums Slariss emerged.

  Beau’s mouth went suddenly dry with fear – even he was not ready for this. The snake’s head was bright green and huge. It slid slowly out in a seemingly never-ending ripple of sleek coils. As if searching, its flickering tongue quested in and out restlessly, eyes glittering in the firelight, twin diamonds of primitive evil. Lazily the green and black chevroned coils formed into several loops, one atop the other, with the flat reptilian head resting at their peak. Standing at the other side of the fire, the weasel poked the tip of her long wand in the flames until it was glowing. Not one creature in the cave made a sound or moved a muscle. The snake was hunting, seeking a victim. The crew hung motionless, stiff with terror. Beau was not aware of the glowing wand’s end approaching behind his head. Suddenly the weasel touched it against the tip of his long right ear.

  ‘Yowchowoop!’ He shook his head.

  ‘Slarissssss s!’

  Not a paw’s length away the snake swayed its head, mouth open, fangs bared dangerously, hissing its challenge. The hare found himself staring into the reptile’s eyes. Frozen with nameless dread, he hung there helpless.

  * * *

  24

  THE NIGHT WAS humid, still warm from the day’s sun. The Sayna came back to the island on the floodtide, showing no sail. Luke and Vurg dropped anchor offshore.

  Vurg was muttering to himself as they went over the side. ‘Can’t tell if’n any beast’s watchin’ us. I ’ope none spotted us comin’ in. Suppose they did, though? Mebbe one of us should’ve stayed behind as guard on board.’

  Luke chuckled dryly. ‘I thought o’ that meself, mate, but it’ll take the two of us to rescue our crew. Besides, if we get caught too then what use is a ship to us? Stow your chunnerin’, Vurg, y’gettin’ to sound more like an ole mousewife every day.’

  They stole up the deserted beach, using any rocks they found as cover. Closer to the foothills Vurg held up a paw. ‘Sssh, lissen, can you hear anythin’?’

  Luke stood quite still and listened closely. ‘Thought it was the waves at first, but it sounds like some sort o’ chant – drums, too. Aye, that’s the sound o’ drums!’

  Vurg pointed to the foothills, slightly to the right of them. ‘Comin’ from there, matey, I’m sure ’tis!’

  Sword and spear at the ready they pressed on into the foliage stretching uphill before them. The sounds of drums and chanting grew louder, closer. Luke whispered, ‘Stay there, mate. I’ll go an’ take a peek.’

  The cave entrance was a short winding tunnel. Luke sized up the lie of the land, then beckoned to Vurg. They crouched behind a bush at one side of the entrance whilst Luke explained his plan.

  ‘See that round boulder, just uphill there? D’you reckon we could shift it between us, Vurg?’

  ‘Aye, at least we’ll give it a try, mate!’

  ‘Good, but first we need to dig a bit of a hole here.’

  ‘Where, right here in the entrance to the tunnel?’

  ‘That’s right. Ground’s pretty soft, we’ll use our weapons.’

  Between them they scraped out a shallow depression in the tunnel’s mouth. Luke searched about until he found a sizeable chunk of rock, which he placed to one side of the hole, tamping it down firmly.

  ‘Right, now let’s move that boulder.’

  It was a large round stone, but it moved slowly when Luke set his back against it and Vurg used his spearbutt as a lever. Luke fought for control as they rolled it down towards the entrance.

  ‘Whoa, go easy now, mate, easy does it, just a touch more. There, that should do it!’

  The boulder was checked from rolling into the hole at the cave entrance by the rock Luke had placed there, which now served as a wedge to hold the boulder back.

  Luke drew his sword, then paused. ‘Those drums’ve stopped. Come on, somethin’ must be goin’ on in there. Be careful not t’make any noise, matey.’

  The friends crept through the tunnel and, keeping to the shadowed walls, entered the main cave, hardly able to believe their eyes at what they saw. Sinister green firelight flickered over the massed faces of the rodents packed on the ledges, all staring fascinated at one thing. The great snake! The reptile’s thick neck was quivering as it prepared to strike at Beau, rearing back and hissing c
oldly.

  Luke sprang into immediate action. Grabbing Vurg’s spear, he hopskipped forward a pace and hurled the hefty weapon with all the force he could muster.

  Speechless with horror, Beau saw the reptile’s mouth open wide, revealing sharp deadly fangs as it struck forward at his unprotected face. Then, like a lightning bolt, the spear went smashing into the gaping mouth, driving half its length out through the back of the neck column. Thrashing wildly in its death throes, the snake fell back to the floor, its powerful body flailing like an immense bullwhip, battering rodents from the lower ledges and scattering the fire into a cascade of flying sparks and embers.

  The weasel scarce had time to turn before Luke was upon her, ramming the vermin leader flat against the rock wall, his swordblade at her throat. ‘One move an’ yore dead meat, scum!’ the Warrior roared into her painted face.

  Though the weasel could not understand Luke’s language, the message was clear. The only part of her which moved was her throat, as she gulped against the swordblade.

  ‘’Tis Luke, mates. We’re saved!’

  A ragged cheer rang out from the crew. Below them the dead snake was still causing great damage. Rodents were flung high, smashed against the cave walls, crushed and beaten senseless by the writhing coils of the monster. It seemed like an eternity before the reptile’s body went limp and still. However, a great number of the rodents had escaped serious injury, huddling together on the highest cave ledges. Several of them now grabbed weapons and advanced on Luke and Vurg, screeching savagely.

  ‘Marrahagga lagor Rabbatooma! Lagor!’

  Vurg swiftly freed his spear from the snake’s carcass and joined Luke, pressing his spearpoint at the weasel’s heart. Luke kept the sword at her throat as he growled, ‘Tell ’em to back off an’ cut my crew loose!’ He nodded to the bound figures hanging on their poles from the cave ceiling. ‘My crew. Cut ’em down afore I cut you down. Now!’