Pearls of Lutra

by Brian Jacques

  Auma peered into an empty barrel standing in a corner. ‘What would you know?’ she said.

  Tansy strode resolutely for the steps leading to Great Hall. ‘Where the clue to the next pearl is, of course. Come on, we’ve got to find those Dibbuns!’

  24

  RASCONZA CALLED THE two searats Baltur and Gancho to his ship, and the three of them leaned over the stern rail, speaking in low murmurs. The fox looked across the sunlit harbour, up to the palace of Ublaz. He knew the mad-eyed Emperor was probably having them watched.

  Rasconza kept his face straight and his voice level. ‘I don’t like it, mates. Ublaz gave in too easy, that’s not like ’im. I tell yer, that’n’s a dangerous beast.’

  Baltur glanced sideways at Rasconza. ‘So, what’re yer goin’ t’do about it?’

  ‘Well, I ain’t ’angin’ about in this ’arbour waitin’ fer Ublaz t’make ’is move, so ’ere’s me plan. I says we sail away from Sampetra tonight on the floodtide, an’ once we’re shut o’ this place we don’t come back!’

  Gancho drummed a paw nervously on the rail. ‘But Ublaz will see us if’n we all pulls anchor an’ sails at once. It’s too risky, ’e’ll ’ave laid plans t’stop us!’

  The fox shrugged. ‘That’s a chance we’ll ’ave t’take, mates. The best bet is to let the crews know secretly, pass the word about quietlike. I’m appointin’ both of you cap’ns, you’ll get yer own ships. We’ll wait until dark, then at my signal slip off, ship by ship. Are yer with me, mates?’

  The two searats nodded, fired by their sudden promotions to captaincy. Baltur spoke for them both. ‘We’re with yer, Rasconza, give us our orders!’

  Word passed between the wave vermin lounging around the taverns and harbour of Sampetra.

  ‘Keep it under yer ’at, messmate, Rasconza sez we’re sailin’ tonight when it’s dark.’

  ‘Sailin’ t’night? Wot, y’mean all of us?’

  ‘Keep yer voice down, bucko, you just pass it on nice an’ easy, everybeast t’be back aboard their ole ships by sunset!’

  Gradually the whole quay area was rife with whispered messages being passed from one to another. In the late afternoon a grizzled searat with a patch on one eye and a rusty cutlass at his side stumped out of a tavern. He left the area as soon as he was sure nobeast was watching.

  Two Monitors ushered the searat into the Emperor’s throne room. Ublaz watched as the searat cast aside his disguise and picked up his trident.

  ‘Tell me what you heard, are they planning to attack, or run?’

  The Trident-rat stood rigid as the pine marten’s eyes blazed into his brain. Then he told all he had heard.

  Afternoon shadows were lengthening into the hour before twilight as Ublaz headed a powerful force of Monitors and Trident-rats to the jetty. Rasconza stood amidships on his vessel, in company with Baltur. The searat watched Ublaz approaching, and his paws began quivering.

  ‘It’s the Emperor, ’e knows wot we’re up to!’

  Rasconza smiled, showing no sign of alarm. He dug his claws sharply into Baltur’s side. ‘Shut yer gob, rat, an’ stop flappin’, I’ll see t’this.’

  The pine marten cut a handsome figure, clad in gold silks topped by a white turban set with a feather and greenstone jewel. He appeared to be unarmed. Ublaz smiled, greeting Rasconza pleasantly.

  ‘So, how is my Chief Captain today? Everything shipshape?’

  Rasconza matched the Emperor’s smile and manner immediately. ‘Never better, yore mightiness, an’ pray, wot brings yer to our ’umble ship on this fine day?’

  Ublaz whipped out the green silken gauze the fox had given him. He winked at Rasconza before binding it lightly around his eyes. ‘Hah! Nearly forgot my manners there. You’ve probably heard that I hypnotized a poisonous water serpent – I’ve got to be careful of these magic eyes of mine. Don’t want to go putting any spells on my trusted Chief Captain, now do I?’

  Rasconza felt a shudder pass through him. Instinctively his paw roamed to the silver dagger Ublaz had given him. ‘Thank ye, Sire, but I’m sure y’never came all the way down ’ere to tell me that. Just wot do yer want?’

  Ublaz stooped, looking at the stern of the vessel at water level. ‘Nothing really, I merely thought it was about time I started making good my promises to you. I presume that now would be a good time to start overhauling our fleet. My carpenters will do the work. We’ll start by replacing all your tillers and rudders, I’ve got fine stout timber to make new ones.’

  Still smiling, but fuming inwardly, Rasconza was forced to stand helplessly by as Trident-rats and Monitors swarmed over his ship, removing the tiller and rudder, rendering the vessel useless.

  When the other vessels had been similarly treated, Ublaz had six Trident-rats line up on the jetty in front of Rasconza. He pointed them out one by one.

  ‘Galdra, Fentz, Orlug, Kerrat, Somgil and Criuth. These are your six new captains, all trustworthy creatures. Bow to your Chief!’

  The six Trident-rats bowed respectfully to Rasconza.

  The fox nodded formally to them, doing a quick mental calculation. ‘Six, you say? But we only ’ave six ships,’ he said.

  Ublaz smiled winningly at his adversary. ‘Ah yes, but you command them all. Soon they’ll be good as new, and when we’ve replaced the tillers and rudders, we’ll see about new masts for our fleet. I bid you good day, my Chief Captain!’

  Ublaz removed the green gauze from his eyes and turned to go.

  Baltur began arguing with Rasconza. ‘I thought you made me an’ Gancho cap’ns? Wot right does Mad Eyes ’ave puttin’ ’is own cap’ns in our place?’

  Ublaz wheeled about, fixing the searat with a piercing stare. ‘You there, what is your name?’

  Baltur appeared dumbfounded for a moment, unable to tear his eyes from the gaze of Ublaz. ‘I’m called Baltur,’ he said.

  ‘And how long have you been a searat, Baltur?’

  ‘Long as I can remember, Sire.’

  ‘So, you like the sea, eh?’

  ‘I likes it well enough, Sire.’

  Ublaz chuckled, both eyes boring into the hapless vermin. ‘Good, then perhaps you would like to try a swim now.’

  The brief interview was at an end. Ublaz turned and strode away, followed by his army, several of whom were lugging the tillers and rudders of the ships with them. Behind him there was a splash as Baltur threw himself into the sea.

  Rasconza watched two corsairs pull the spluttering Baltur up onto the jetty, and signalled to one of the new Trident-rat captains. ‘You there, Orlug is it? Step aboard, mate, this’ll be yore ship from now on, I’ll show yer round.’

  That evening, just after sunset, Sagitar entered the Emperor’s throne room and placed a sword down in front of Ublaz.

  The pine marten glanced at the stained blade. ‘What is this thing and why do you bring it here?’

  Sagitar measured her words carefully. ‘Mightiness, I was leading the evening harbour patrol when the fox Rasconza gave this to me and bade me bring it to you. He said to tell you that one of your new captains, Orlug, was given the sword by him, in honour of your appointing Orlug captain. But unfortunately Orlug was unused to wearing a sword, and he tripped and fell upon the blade, slaying himself. Rasconza says that you have no need to appoint another captain, he will be master of his own ship. Those were his words, Sire.’

  Much to the astonishment of Sagitar, the Emperor burst into gales of hearty laughter. The Trident-rat stood at attention until her master’s merriment subsided. Ublaz wiped his eyes on a sateen kerchief and took several deep breaths. ‘Go back to the harbour, tell Rasconza I send him my compliments. Oh, and say also that there has been a little mishap on my part, not quite as serious as the loss of a captain. Unfortunately my clumsy Monitors dropped the tillers and rudders and they are all broken. Without them to use as patterns it will take considerably longer to make new ones, but I will tell my carpenters to do their best. Go now!’

  Long after midnight Rasconza sat in his
cabin, sharing a flask of seaweed grog with Baltur and Gancho. The fox had just finished telling them of his latest encounter with Sagitar, messenger of the Emperor.

  Gancho hurled his beaker at the bulkhead and pounded the table. ‘First ’e cripples our vessels, then ’e destroys all the rudders an’ tillers. Ublaz’s got us like fish in a barrel, rot ’is eyes!’

  Rasconza poured a fresh beaker for the irate searat. ‘No ’e ain’t, I told ole Sagitar to take this message back to ’im. I’ve still got five of those new cap’ns safe with us ’ere, so I ’ope that we’ll ’ave new tillers’n’rudders within five days. Five cap’ns an’ five days; maybe they’re all as clumsy as that rat Orlug. Who knows, somethin’ awful might ’appen to each of ’em, one a day, an’ we don’t want that to ’appen, do we? ’Cos then I’d ’ave t’give you buckoes yer jobs back as ship’s masters – you two, an’ three others.’

  Rasconza clinked beakers with Baltur and Gancho, their roaring laughter ringing out across the dark floodtide.

  Rasconza was sure that he had won the next round in the murderous game.

  25

  MARTIN CROUCHED WITH Clecky and Viola behind a small outcrop of rocks on the shoreline. It was the hour before dawn, still and calm. All activity aboard Waveworm seemed to have ceased; she rode smoothly at anchor, too far out to be reached by bowshot.

  Clecky’s keen eyes picked up movement further along the beach at the water’s edge. ‘I say, there’s our otter chum, pullin’ an’ haulin’ on her boat. It looks in jolly bad shape if y’ask me, wot!’

  Martin turned to Viola, who was shivering fitfully after her ordeal in the sea. ‘Stay here, little one. Clecky and I are going to help the otter to beach her boat. If any danger threatens while we’re away, leave these rocks and hide in the woodlands, d’you understand?’

  The volemaid’s teeth were chattering so hard she could only nod.

  Stooping low, Martin and Clecky hurried along the tideline, all the time keeping a weather eye on Waveworm. Grath Longfletch. was glad of their help, and between them the three creatures hauled the longboat across the shore, back to the rock cover.

  Grath surveyed the damage ruefully, saying, ‘She’s stoved in bad amidships, and there’s not a lot I can do without the proper materials to fix her up. I’ve even lost my provisions in the sea.’

  Clecky slumped down mournfully next to Viola. ‘Starvin’, wet, cold, tired, wot! I’ve been in worse places, but I’m blowed if I can remember where they were!’

  Martin held up his paw for silence. ‘Listen!’

  Grath had heard the sounds too. She grabbed for her bow and arrows, which had mercifully survived the encounter with Waveworm. ‘Somebeasts comin’ downstream, get your heads down, mates!’ Stealthily the otter peered landward, over the rocks into the breaking dawn.

  Then she laughed aloud with relief. ‘Haharr, it’s Log a Log an’ the Guosim!’

  Swift as arrows six logboats were skimming downstream from the woodlands to the shore. When they caught sight of Grath, the shrews whooped gruffly, flinging themselves into the stream shallows and wading ashore with open paws.

  Log a Log was first to pound his otter friend’s back.

  ‘Grath Longfletch, you ole waterdog!’

  ‘Log a Log, you liddle streamwalloper!’

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve wrecked that barnacle-crusted cockleshell again, Grath! Good job we happened along. Hi, Martin! Martin of Redwall!’

  The Warriormouse chuckled joyfully as Guosim shrews crowded round, shaking his paws. ‘Log a Log, old friend. Dabby, Curio, Dimple, what a pleasure it is to see your faces again!’

  Clecky pointed to himself and Viola. ‘Pay no heed to us, chaps, we’re only a couple o’ butterflies hangin’ about waitin’ for summer, aren’t we, m’dear!’

  A fire was built on the sand behind the rocks, and Guosim cooks busied themselves, while shrewmaids outfitted Viola bankvole in one of their smocks. Curio and Dabby got a repair gang together and began straight away fixing Grath’s longboat.

  Log a Log sat by the fire with Martin and Clecky, discussing their position. When he heard about the ambush in the ditch, the shrew Chieftain looked thoughtful. ‘We found a searat wandering lost upstream,’ he said. ‘My mates have got him under guard over there. I wonder if he can tell us where they’re planning to take your Abbot? Ahoy, mates, bring that vermin over t’me!’

  Bound and gagged, a dispirited searat was hauled up in front of the shrew Chieftain.

  Martin recognized him instantly. ‘That’s the villain who escaped after ambushing us. We slew the rest of them, but this one got away.’

  Grath Longfletch strode up. Borrowing a knife from one of the cooks, she cut the searat’s gag and the rope that bound his paws. Then, notching a green-feathered shaft to her great bow, Grath nodded meaningly at the terrified searat.

  ‘Get running!’ she snarled.

  The searat took one look at the grim-faced otter and her lethal weapon and fell down on all fours, pleading and sobbing. ‘Yer gonna kill me, I know y’are. Mercy, I beg yer!’

  Grath seized the creature roughly, hauling him upright. ‘I’m givin’ you a chance, scum, that’s more’n you did for my family when you murdered ’em! I’m Grath Longfletch, last of the Holt of Lutra; remember it. Now run!’

  Martin placed himself between Grath and the searat, saying, ‘You can’t kill him, friend, we need him to give us information. He’s valuable to us.’

  Grath’s voice trembled as she replied, ‘I like you, Martin of Redwall, you’re a warrior born, but this searat is a coward and a murderer. I’m sworn to avenge my family, so step aside, Martin, I don’t want to hurt you!’

  ‘Then you’ll ’ave to ’urt us both, matey!’ Log a Log stood up alongside Martin and spoke gently to the otter. ‘Grath, yore lettin’ revenge rob you of yore senses. Put aside the bow an’ shaft now, there’s a goodbeast. Martin’s right an’ you know it, friend.’

  Slowly Grath lowered her bow and shot the arrow into the sand between her footpaws. The searat gave a moan of relief. Grath smiled regretfully at the two creatures facing her. ‘I’m sorry, Martin, you’re right. Log a Log, you sound more like my father than any creature I’ve ever known. Forgive me.’

  The Warriormouse patted Grath’s paw. ‘There’s nothing to forgive, friend, I’d have done the same in your place. Now, how about some breakfast by the fire while we question this wave vermin and make our plans for the day?’

  Viola and Clecky sat with the boat repair crew around their fire, watching a pot of pine resin bubbling. The volemaid sipped steaming vegetable and seafood soup from a scallop shell bowl and devoured hot shrewbread in a manner far removed from her former prissy self.

  Curlo winked at her. ‘Tastes good, don’t it?’ she said.

  Viola nodded gratefully as the shrew refilled the shell for her. ‘Almost as good as the taste of freedom. Oh! Poor Abbot Durral, I hope they haven’t harmed him. He risked his life to help me escape from that horrible ship and those awful lizards. Do you think there’s a chance that we can rescue him?’

  Clecky bent his long ears towards the other fire, munching delicious shrewbread as he spoke. ‘Never give up hope, m’gel, Martin an’ ole Log a thing are prob’ly cookin’ up a plan right now with that tough-lookin’ otter.’

  Day broke cloudy and grey with a calm sea and little or no breeze. Romsca placed a bowl of some doubtful steaming mess in front of the Abbot.

  ‘Get that skilly down yer, Durral, no sense in starvin’ t’death!’

  The old mouse peered up at the corsair from where he sat tethered to the mast. The loss of his glasses affected his poor eyesight. ‘Thank you, my child, and thank you also for the kindness you showed to the little volemaid.’

  Romsca shook her head and laughed. ‘I ain’t yore child, ole mouse, an’ you can’t get around me. You shovel those vittles down an’ pray t’the fates that yore mates come up with the Emperor’s six pearls!’

  Further discussion was cut shor
t as Lask Frildur came hurrying out on deck. The ship had drifted sideways, allowing the Monitor General a disturbing view of the shore.

  ‘Have you no eyez in your head, idiot?’ he snarled nastily at Romsca. ‘Look landwardz!’

  Romsca was about to argue, but a quick glance to the shore gave the corsair great cause for concern. Small warlike creatures in considerable numbers, all wearing bright headbands and sashes with rapiers, stood boldly in plain view on the beach. Pulled up onto the sandy banks of the stream that flowed to the sea were six dugout treetrunk boats, equipped with paddles and single sails. Nearby on a clump of rocks were three more creatures, a strong-looking mouse with a great sword strapped to his back, a big otter and a lanky hare, both armed with bows and arrows. They were watching a group of the small creatures repairing a ship’s longboat by the glow of several small fires.

  Romsca shook her head in disbelief at the scene. ‘Stripe me! Where’d that lot come from?’

  Lask Frildur paced the deck, tail swishing and teeth bared. ‘Who knowz? There are enough of them to take thiz vezzel, and they have boatz. We are no longer zafe anchored here!’

  Kicking the bowl of food from the Abbot’s paws, the lizard pulled him as close to the rail as the rope tether would allow. ‘Who are thoze beaztz, mouze? Tell me!’

  Durral squinted at the distant shore. ‘Without my glasses it is difficult to say, though by the bright colours they wear I would guess they are Guosim shrews.’

  Lask brought his face close to the old mouse. ‘Warriorz?’

  Tucking both paws into his long sleeves, the Abbot turned sideways to avoid the Monitor General’s foul breath. ‘Yes, my son, the Guosim are renowned both on land and water as fierce warriors. Their fighting spirit knows no bounds.’

  Lask pulled the Abbot roughly to him. ‘Old fool, I am your enemy, not your zon!’

  Gazing calmly into the glittering reptilian eyes, Durral said, ‘I am an Abbot; nobeast is my enemy. Why do you not let me go free and sail from here in peace?’