The Pearls of Lutra

by Brian Jacques

  Ublaz took a pawring surmounted by a polished jetstone, and looped it on a thong around Grail’s neck.

  ‘My Monitor General will know this comes from me. Get the pearls from him and fly back here to Sampetra. Go now, ride the winds, make your wings fly faster than the waves of the sea. When you return I will reward you and your kin. Fly!’

  ‘Kreeeehaaarkaa!’

  With a long wailing cry the gulls took to the air, swooping off over the main, eastward.

  The pine marten smoothed his creamy throat fur, gazing at his reflection in a burnished bronze wall mirror. He turned to Conva, who sat trembling at the table. ‘And you, my friend,’ he said, ‘what shall I do with you?’

  The charcoal stick crumbled in the corsair’s shaking paw as he tried to tear his gaze from the pine marten’s frightening eyes. ‘Mighty One, let me live!’ he whimpered.

  Ublaz gripped Conva tight by his ears and stared down at him. ‘A simple request, but one I am unwilling to grant. You have seen and heard too much, Conva, far too much. Look into my eyes!’

  Slashback the searat captain heard the clatter of paws and trident butts upon the jetty. He inched open the cabin door and peered out.

  ‘Rats! Trident-rats!’ he yelled. ‘The jetty’s crowded with ’em! We’re trapped aboard this boat, mates!’

  Barranca grabbed his sword and made for the door, snarling, ‘We’ll see ’ow they likes the taste of cold steel, eh, mates!’

  Slashback slammed the door shut. ‘Stay yer paw or y’ll get us all carved up. There’s too many of ’em, we’d be fishbait afore we got ’alfway along the jetty!’

  The stoat captain Rocpaw slumped down and refilled his beaker. ‘Hah! This is a great start to an uprisin’, us trapped aboard ship, an’ our crews all ashore separated from their cap’ns. Now’s the time fer bright ideas, anybeast got one?’

  Slashback had cracked open the door again to watch what was going on outside. ‘Well, they ain’t made a move yet, just stannin’ there, an’ Sagitar lookin’ well pleased with ’erself,’ he said. ‘Ahoy, ’ere comes ole Mad Eyes ’isself with a gang of ’is Monitors.’

  Barranca still had his sabre at the ready. ‘Let’s sit tight ’ere an’ ’ear wot Ublaz has t’say. I ain’t goin’ out there fer a starin’ match with that one!’

  There was a pause in the proceedings, then the sound of the Emperor’s voice reached the rebels in the cabin. ‘Friends, brethren of the seas, have you got grievances? Come out here and tell them to me!’

  Barranca half opened the cabin door and shouted back, ‘Ho, we got grievances all right, but we ain’t stupid, we can state ’em comf’table from ’ere! We ain’t takin’ no more orders from you, Ublaz. Our crews outnumber you an’ yer gang!’

  ‘Be reasonable, friends, fighting will get us nowhere,’ Ublaz replied, signalling Sagitar to start the Trident-rats moving further up the jetty towards the ship. ‘Come up to my palace. I will lay on a feast while we talk things out . . .’

  Suddenly Barranca burst out onto the deck waving his sabre and yelling, ‘Ahoy the taverns! Corsairs ahoy!’

  The bold move was successful. In an instant, searats and corsairs began piling out of the waterfront dens adjacent to the jetty.

  Ublaz turned, pointing his silver dagger at them. ‘Stay back, keep out of this! It concerns only me, Ublaz, and those aboard the Freebooter!’

  Bilgetail the weasel captain came out on deck followed by the other captains. In a booming voice, the tall sombre weasel called to the crews, ‘Stand by to rush ’em, buckoes! If they puts a single paw t’this deck, then charge!’

  Barranca and Rocpaw had positioned themselves fore and aft; they stood by the head and stern mooring ropes, swords drawn. Barranca knew that Ublaz had lost the element of surprise, but he had also figured that if the vermin crews charged they could be easily fended off by Trident-rats defending the narrow jetty. Moreover, if an attack were mounted, Ublaz and the front ranks of Monitors and Trident-rats would swarm aboard and slaughter the captains before the crews could get to them.

  Barranca’s brain was as nimble as his paws. Keeping his face averted from Ublaz, he called out his demands. ‘Order yore soldiers not to make any sudden moves an’ we’ll tell our crews t’do likewise. But we’re finished payin’ tribute to you, Ublaz. As for the timber stocks yore holdin’ – share ’em out atwixt the cap’ns. Oh, an’ you kin release my brother Conva, now! Yore days of imprisonin’ us is over!’

  A cold fury gripped the Emperor. He pointed his dagger at Barranca, snarling, ‘This is my island. I alone rule here. I am Emperor Ublaz and none dare look at my eyes! Seascum do not dictate terms to me, Barranca. Ask your brother – he is an even bigger fool than you!’

  Ublaz signalled to his Monitors. Four of the lizards strode forward with a sailcloth-wrapped bundle, and slammed it down on the jetty. The bundle burst open, revealing the mangled carcass of Conva.

  The mad-eyed Emperor laughed coldly, and said, ‘This one thought he was a bird. I merely looked at him and he tried to fly out of a high window!’

  Barranca was still with horror for an instant, then he roared his hatred at the pine marten. ‘I’ll live to close those evil eyes of yores fer good, Ublaz! This is war! Cut ’er loose, Rocpaw, ’tis waaaaaar!’

  Rocpaw slashed down twice on the stern rope as Barranca sliced through the headrope with a single blow of his sabre. The ship Freebooter drifted out from the jetty on the ebbing tide, sailing free as the captains loosed her sails. Bilgetail bellowed to the vermin crews milling about on the waterfront. ‘Retreat to the hills, arm yerselves an’ wait ‘till we give the word, cullies! We’ll take Sampetra fer ourselves, mates – ’tis war!’

  Whooping and screeching, the wave vermin dashed off behind the harbour into the high ground.

  Ublaz placed a restraining paw on the shoulder of Sagitar. ‘Let them go, they are nought but a rabble without leaders. Take a crew of Trident-rats and commandeer Slashback’s ship, the Bloodkeel. Hunt Barranca down, slay the other captains, but bring Barranca to me. I want him alive!’

  7

  GRATH LONGFLETCH NOTCHED another shaft to her bowstring and waited for the next searat to emerge from behind the longboat hauled high above the tideline. From where she sat in the rocks the deadly otter commanded an uninterrupted view of the shore for miles around. She had slain five searats. Their bodies lay on the sands by the boat, each transfixed by a green-feathered arrow. Now only two more rats crouched behind the beached vessel.

  Grath held the great bow firmly. Allowing its string to touch her cheek, she gazed down the arrow shaft, singing softly to herself as she waited for the quarry to materialize.

  ‘Run from me, hide from me,

  Still my shafts will find you,

  All you vermin of the sea,

  I must bring swift death to.

  Lutra’s Holt has not yet gone,

  By my bow I swear it so,

  I alone will carry on,

  Wreaking vengeance where I go.

  Run from me, hide from me,

  Hear my longbow singing,

  Grath of Lutra’s family,

  Sleep to you is bringing.’

  Sculrag the searat captain and his steersrat Karvil lay flat on the sand behind the stern of the single-sailed longboat that had once served as ship’s dinghy for Sculrag’s vessel, Sprayraider.

  Karvil whined continually. ‘Lookit, the tide’s comin’ in, an’ we ain’t got a crab’s chance of gettin’ off this shore. Why’d you tell ’em t’pull the boat up beyond the tideline. Why?’

  Sculrag hurled a pawful of sand at the steersrat, but the breeze whipped it away before it found his face.

  ‘Because the tide would’ve drifted it away while we was lookin’ fer shellfish on those rocks, block’ead, that’s why! Oh, an’ while we’re talkin’ about rocks, who was the witless buffoon that ran me ship onto the rocks an’ wrecked ’er . . . You!’

  Sculrag kicked out viciously, catching Karvil painfully in his side, and rage
d on at the hapless steersrat. ‘A good ship an’ two seasons’ plunder lost! Huh, steersrat? I wouldn’t let you steer a beaker round a bowl of grog! Twenty days in an open longboat, twenty days without vittles, livin’ on barnacles an’ rainwater! If I ever gets outta this mess I’m goin’ to ’ang you upside down over the sea an’ let the fishes nibble yore ’ead off, though they’ll be out o’ luck if they expects to find any brains in there!’

  Quite unexpectedly Karvil kicked back, catching Sculrag square in his flabby stomach. The searat captain glared at his attacker as he fought for breath, and croaked, ‘Yer mutinous toad, ’tis the death penalty fer strikin’ a ship’s master!’

  Sneeringly, Karvil avoided Sculrag’s flailing paw and drew a dagger. The fact that he had hurt the searat made him bolder. ‘Yore no ship’s master, slimeguts, you ain’t got a ship no more! I’m sick of takin’ orders from yer, see. Jus’ try strikin’ me once more an’ you’ll feel this ’ere blade!’

  Sculrag kicked swiftly, sending the dagger spinning out onto the sand. Karvil kicked back, but Sculrag grabbed his footpaw and bit it hard. The steersrat screeched in agony as he pulled away, grabbing for the dagger. Breaking free, he scrambled out onto the sand and retrieved his blade.

  Sssssthu kk!

  Karvil fell backward, the green-flighted shaft between his eyes.

  Desperately Sculrag looked over his shoulder at the incoming tide. The longboat was fully twice its length away from the tideline. Reaching over the after end, he groped madly about until his paw encountered the stern rope. It was made fast to the back seat. Sobbing with relief and panting, the searat captain began dragging the longboat backward, towards the sea and freedom. It was tough going. He dug his footpaws into the sand and, still lying flat, he tugged the longboat, inch by painful inch, its flat bottom scraping the shore. For interminable minutes he sweated, puffing, tugging and heaving, spitting sand from his mouth and wiping sweat from his eyes.

  Sculrag was fat, but he was strong. Rewinding the rope around his shoulders, he dragged hard, digging his footpaws deep to gain purchase until he felt the waves lap at them. Sculrag smiled then, the wreck of his ship and the crew that was lost on the reef all forgotten. Whoever it was up in those rocks, they would not be adding him to the list of the slain. He, Sculrag, would escape and, once the longboat was in the sea and he could hoist the single sail to catch fair wind, he was certain nobeast alive would catch him. One more tug, just one more! His footpaws hit something solid and he glanced over his shoulder. Sculrag’s blood ran cold as he stared into the vengeful eyes of Grath Longfletch.

  Moonlight glimmered and danced across the restless waves as the longboat skimmed lightly south on the open seas. Grath was now captain of her own little vessel.

  Every scrap of Waveworm’s canvas was stretched tight; she dipped her bows deep to the troughs of great waves. Spray hissed as she forged over the surface of endless deeps, leaving behind a silvery wake, like the track of a giant snail.

  Bladetail the steersrat wiped seawater from his eyes. He leant hard on the long wooden tiller to keep the vessel on course, east, always east, to where the sun rose each dawn. Romsca the ferret stood at the helm, eyes on the horizon. She had been Conva’s first mate; the Emperor Ublaz had promoted her to captain for this voyage. Romsca was as tough and fierce as any sea vermin; but she was under no illusions. She knew that she was dispensable. If Lask Frildur brought back the Tears of all Oceans, Ublaz would not bother what price had been paid to obtain them.

  Romsca joined Bladetail at the tiller; glancing through the scupper slits, she watched the rate at which the waves passed by. ‘Well under way an’ makin’ good time, mate, like as if we’re in an ’urry t’rush to our deaths, eh?’

  The steersrat glanced nervously around. ‘Stow that gab, there might be Monitors cockin’ a lug t’yer.’

  Romsca smiled thinly as she shook her head, saying, ‘Not today, messmate. I may be feared o’ those lizards, an’ that Lask Frildur, every time he looks at me my blood runs cold. But I ain’t daft, we can gab away up ’ere an’ they won’t be bothered t’lissen in on us. Know why?’

  Bladetail put a harness on the tiller to stop it wandering. ‘No, why?’ he said.

  Romsca tapped the side of her muzzle and winked. ‘Well, there’s two reasons, see. I figgers it out fer meself when we first took those lizards aboard. One, they’re lubbers, they been ashore all their lives an’ this is their first voyage. Two, lizards like them are born in tropical parts, so it stands ter reason, they can’t abide the cold. Now me’n’you an’ all the crew, why, we love the feel of a rollin’ deck ’neath our paws, an’ as fer weather, we’ve been through it all, foul’n’fair as well as ’ot’n’cold!’

  Bladetail looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t see ’ow that ’elps us.’

  The ferret explained. ‘Good job y’got me t’look after yer. I put the Monitors in the best cabins, up for’ard, hahaha, where they gets the real buck an’ pitch of the ship, up an’ down, up an’ down, night’n’day. If you wants ter see a sick green lizard, take a look in the for’ard accommodation. Lask Frildur an’ his gang are all laid out there, moanin’ an’ groanin’ like they wanna die.

  ‘Now, as we sail further east the weather gets colder, it ain’t tropical no more. Ole Mad Eyes never thought o’ that, but I did. So, mate, we won’t ’ave no lizards bossin’ us about on this trip. No sir, lizards like them can’t stand the cold, take my word fer it!’

  Bladetail thought for a moment, then the logic of Romsca’s words hit him, and the steersrat started to guffaw aloud.

  ‘Ahawhawhaw! Yer a canny one, Cap’n, hawhaw!’

  Romsca kicked his footpaw suddenly, muttering low, ‘Stow that cackle, ’ere comes ole Lask ’isself!’

  The Monitor General’s skin, which was normally grey-blue, had a definite tinge of unhealthy green to it. Hauling himself painfully over the for’ard cabin coamings, he staggered, shivering and holding tight to the deckrails.

  The big Monitor’s dull muddy eyes stared accusingly at Romsca. ‘It’z not good on waterz,’ he said. ‘Me and my Monitorz much ill. How far to Mozzflower, tell me!’

  Romsca paced the heaving deck nonchalantly, gazing up at the sky and testing the wind with a dampened paw. ‘Oh, I’d say quite a stretch o’ time yet, though if’n we lose this fair wind or run into proper rough seas, then who c’d say?’

  ‘Proper rough zeaz!’ Lask Frildur’s eyes glazed over, and his jaw sagged visibly. ‘You mean it can get rougher than thiz?’

  Bladetail was enjoying himself. ‘Bless yer scales, Gen’ral, you ain’t seen rough water yet,’ he said jovially. ‘Why, the sea’s as still as a millpond today, ain’t that right, mate?’

  Romsca agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Aye, ’tis so, but don’t you worry, sir. The Emperor said to deliver you an’ yore Monitors to Mossflower shores, an’ I gave ’im me solemn oath that I would. The seas’ll get big as mountains an’ there’ll be blizzards with ice thick on the riggin’s, but don’t you fret yer scaly ’ead, we’ll get yer there one way or t’other. You take a seabeast’s advice now, sir, go an’ lay down in yer cabin. Let these gentle waves rock yer t’sleep. I’ll send Rubby the cook along later with yore dinner, some nice fish guts boiled in ole tallowfat . . .’

  ‘Bloooaaargh!’

  Lask Frildur clapped both paws to his mouth and staggered off miserably to his cabin, bowed and shivering.

  Romsca and Bladetail leaned against the tiller, cackling helplessly.

  ‘Wohawhawhaw! Fish guts boiled in tallowfat, that’s a good ’un!’

  ‘Haharrharrharr! Follered by a cold pan o’ greasy skilly, that should bring the roses back to ’is scaly ole cheeks. Haharr!’

  8

  BRIGHT SPRING DAWN, with no traces of the night’s gale, was scarce an hour old over Redwall when little Arven flung himself on Tansy’s bed in the sick bay and began buffeting her with a pillow.

  ‘Wakey up, Tanzee, sleepyspike, dozypaws!’

  With a bound the yo
ung hedgehog maid was out of bed and attacking back with her pillow. ‘Dozypaws, eh, you little maggot! Take that, an’ that!’

  The pillowcase caught on a bedpost and ripped; downy feathers flew about like snowflakes in a breeze. They both fell back on the bed giggling helplessly amid the whirling cascade.

  ‘So, this is how villains behave in my sick bay!’ said Sister Cicely, standing in the open doorway, paws akimbo. ‘I was going to bring you both breakfast in bed. Silly me, to think that you were still sick and exhausted and needed rest.’

  Tansy was about to speak when a feather tickled her nose and she sneezed. ‘Ah, a, a, choooo!’

  Arven smiled innocently at the indignant mouse Sister.

  ‘I fink Tanzee gotta cold.’

  The good Sister’s paw was wagging furiously at the miscreants. ‘That’s enough of your impudence, Dibbun. No breakfast for either of you until this mess is cleared up! Arven, get a broom and sweep up those feathers. Tansy, get needle and thread, repair that pillow and stuff those feathers back into it, this instant!’

  Cicely stood over them as they went to work, still scolding. ‘When you’ve done that I want to see those beds made, properly! Oh yes, and while you’re up here you can shake out the rush mats at the window and dust the shelves and cupboard tops!’

  She stormed out, slamming the door. Immediately Arven placed his paws on his sides and began imitating Sister Cicely. ‘Tanzee panzee brush uppa floor, worra mess I never see’d in my life! Dearie grayshuss, likkle villains!’

  Tansy shook with laughter and sneezed until tears were running down her cheeks. Then a knock sounded upon the door.

  ‘Can’t come in ’less you a villain or a maggit!’ Arven called cheerfully.

  Teasel the hogwife popped her head around the doorjamb. ‘Great seasons, m’dears, what’s bin goin’ on up ’ere?’