The Rogue Crew

by Brian Jacques

  Rake’s mighty blow sent the point right through the wall, almost a third of the length of its shaft. He winked at Wilbee. “Nought like a guid spear, tell yore pa. Now give it a sidelong push wi’ me!”

  As they pulled it sharply to one side, there was a rending crack. The wall split from top to bottom. Another two solid thwacks with the spear, and a big triangular piece of the structure fell away.

  Rake pointed to the entrance he had made, bowing mockingly to Queen Dukwina. “After you, marm!”

  As the column filed in, the captain kept Dukwina at spearpoint, in view of her army. He called out harshly to them, “Ah’d stay back if’n I were you, or ye’ll get yer queen back wi’ an awful hole through her, ye ken?”

  The queen sneered. “You’re an officer and a creature of honour. You wouldn’t dare harm me!”

  The captain jabbed her lightly with the spearpoint. “Marm, Ah’d dare anythin’ tae preserve the hares o’ mah platoon. Now, call yer beasties off!”

  Dukwina squeaked hastily at her army, “Stay back, all of you—that is a command!”

  The lizards and shrews were still hissing and wielding their weapons, but they made no move to charge.

  Scutram picked up the large, triangular fragment of broken wall. It was surprisingly light. He blocked the aperture with it.

  “Corporal Welkin, Bawdsley, hold this bloomin’ thing in place. It’ll give us some protection, wot!”

  Trug Bawdsley placed his shoulder against the impromptu barrier. “Aye, sah, an’ ’twill save us havin’ to look at their flamin’ ugly mugs!”

  The three haremaids were lying in a corner, sedated by the drugged wine. Scutram waggled his ears reflectively.

  “That’s four of our lot out for the count now. Confound Drander, the big greedy lout. Well, what’s t’be done, eh?”

  Sergeant Miggory lifted Drander’s limp paw, then dropped it. “H’I wonder ’ow long those knockout drops’ll last.”

  The little empraking replied, “Dukwina’s special wine can lay a shrew or a lizard out for a full day. I know, ’cos I’ve seen her use it.”

  The pygmy shrew queen snarled at him.

  “You shut up, blabbymouth!”

  The empraking poked his tongue out at her. “Shan’t, an’ you can’t make me, bossytail!”

  She made as if to run at him but was halted by Captain Rake. The empraking scurried behind young Flutchers. “Keep her away from me—she’s vicious!”

  Rake Nightfur silenced him with a glare. “Och, quit yer grievin’ now. But if what ye say is right, shrews an’ lizards are nought but wee beasties. That stuff shouldn’t work for long on anything as big as a hare, eh?”

  Miggory nodded. “Yore right, sah. Let’s get ’em up on their paws an’ march ’em h’around a bit. That might bring’em round.”

  The captain allowed a hint of a smile to play on his lips. “Aye, we’ll do that. Oh, an’ Sergeant Miggory, you take young Drander. An’ ye have mah permission tae box his ears a bit. Just tae speed his recovery, ye ken?”

  Miggory’s craggy face broke into a big grin. “Aye, sah. Just to speed the pore young beast’s recovery, as ye say!”

  Queen Dukwina plumped herself down on some rugs, looking quite smug. “Do what you like, you’re all still prisoners in here. There’s no way out, an’ sooner or later, my creatures will rescue me.”

  Scutram and Rake were supporting Buff Redspore around the floor. Keeping his voice low, Scutram spoke to Rake. “She’s right, y’know, sah. Seems we’re in a bloomin’ fix, wot!”

  The captain patted Buff’s cheeks as she began moaning softly. “Och, Ah wouldnae say that, friend. There’s nought tae stop us breakin’ through this place at the far wall. Ah trust there’ll be no foebeasts waitin’ for us there.”

  Suddenly the entire structure seemed to echo with a rattling noise. Miggory’s ears stood up straight.

  “Wot’n the name o’vinegar’s that?”

  “It’s those flippin’ nuisances outside, sah!”

  Young Trug Bawdsley pushed his back hard against the barricade. Corporal Welkin was spread-eagled flat on it, his body reverberating with the noise.

  “Ain’t too much to fret over, Sarn’t. They’re beatin’ the outside o’ the wall with those long reed javelins. Hah, they won’t git past me’n’young Trug ’ere!”

  Their captive, the stoat Crumdun, gnawed at a grimy pawnail. “I ’ope they don’t! By the sound o’ that racket, there must be enuff o’ them out there to eat us alive!”

  Under the sergeant’s none-too-gentle ministrations, big Drander was beginning to come around, though he still sounded groggy. “Ooh, me head! What’s all the noise for . . . eat who alive? What’s goin’ on, chaps?”

  Captain Rake tweaked the big young hare’s ear. “Aha, so ye’ve finally decided tae join us, Drander!”

  “Och, yer in braw trouble, laddie buck. Allowin’ yersel’ tae be drugged by the enemy, sleepin’ whilst on duty an’ Ah don’t know what else!”

  Drander groaned. “Beg pardon, sah, but it wasn’t my fault, really. I was thirsty, y’see—”

  “Silence!” Miggory roared in fine parade-ground style.

  “Yew lop-eared, lollop-faced h’excuse for a Long Patroller,’ow dare yew h’interrupt a h’officer! Yew was sayin’, Cap’n?”

  Rake fixed the culprit with a gimlet eye. “Yer a sair disgrace tae the column, Drander, an’ as your captain, Ah’ll have tae consider your servin’ with us!”

  Tears sprang to Drander’s eyes; his sturdy frame shook. “Cap’n, sah, don’t say that, I blinkin’ well beg ye! Put me on a fizzer, lock me in the guardhouse, feed me on weeds’n’water, anythin’ but chuckin’ me out o’ the Patrol.’Tis my whole life, sah!”

  Rake Nightfur’s attitude took on an unexpected change. He winked at Drander and smote his back heartily.

  “Och, yer a great gormless galoot, but ye have a guid heart, laddie. Now, how are ye at breakin’ doon walls?”

  Drander sniffed, wiped his eyes and saluted smartly. “Sah! Just show me the flamin’ wall an’ I’ll break it, sah!”

  Rake nodded toward the far section of wall. “Take Wilbee’s spear an’ let’s see ye do a wee bit o’ damage tae that. Smartly, now!”

  Big Drander grabbed the spear and charged the wall, his bellows ringing out over the din of javelin rattling. Everybeast leapt aside as he stampeded past. “Eulaliiiiaaaa! Blood’n’vinegaaaaar!”

  He hit the composition of sand, limestone and reed grass so hard that he went clear through it.

  Captain Rake stepped through the huge, ragged gap and shook his paw. “Well done, bucko! All charges dropped, Ah think, eh!”

  Drander’s face lit up like a summer sunset. From flat on his back, where he had landed, he saluted.

  “No more sleepin’ on duty for me, sah. Thank ye, Cap’n!”

  With the crash of the broken wall, the rattling of weapons died away. There was an ominous silence from outside.

  Queen Dukwina sniggered maliciously. “Get ready to die. My warriors are coming soon now, rabbets!”

  The little empraking waved his paws in agitation. “She’s right, Cap’n. They’re goin’ to charge!”

  The tall, dark-furred hare nodded. “Ah’ve nae doubt she is, mah friend. Right, Drander, Flutchers, lead off wi’ the lassies, if they’re fit tae go.”

  Lancejack Sage took the paws of Buff Redspore and Ferrul.

  “We’re all correct an’ ready for duty. Sah!”

  Rake drew his twin blades. “Guid—then off ye go! Lieutenant Scutram, you follow ’em wi’ the stoat an’ they two wee shrews. No arguments now, Scutram, go!” He allowed both parties a few moments to get clear, then turned to Miggory. “Sarn’t, take the remainder o’ the column an’ back us up.”

  Joining Corporal Welkin and Trug Bawdsley, Rake Nightfur gave final instructions. “Now, when Ah give the word, we three will fling this piece o’ stuff in their faces an’ get oot o’ here smartish. Are ye right? One . . . two . . . heave!”


  Seizing the large, triangular fragment between them, the three hares hurled the thing into the foremost rank of the foebeast, yelling, “Eulaliiiiaaaaa!”

  BOOK TWO

  Enter the Rogue Crew!

  13

  Rigid with fear, Uggo Wiltud quailed under Razzid Wearat’s evil eye. He could feel the vermin’s foul breath on his face as Razzid hissed, “So, yore a Redwall creature. Don’t be afraid, I won’t harm ye. Tell me yore name an’ the name of yore liddle friend. She’s a pretty one, ain’t she?”

  Uggo opened his mouth, but no sound came forth. The Wearat turned to his companions, chuckling. “Pore liddle’og’s lost his tongue.”

  Jiboree slid out a curved dagger. “Shall I find it for ’im, Cap’n?”

  From some untapped well, courage sprang up in Posy. She leapt up, shouting angrily at Jiboree, “You leave him alone! I’m called Posy, an’ his name’s Uggo!”

  Razzid signalled the weasel to stow his blade. He seemed amused by the hogmaid’s outburst.

  “Posy, eh? Ain’t that a pretty name. So, yore the one who does the talkin’, Posy. Then you tell me about this place they calls Redwall Abbey.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not from there, so I can’t tell you anything, Captain.”

  Mowlag pointed at Uggo. “No, but I wager ’e can.” Shekra joined in encouragingly. “But of course ye can, Uggo. Look at yore friend Posy—she ain’t scared to speak to us.”

  Uggo found his voice then. He blurted out, “I’m not scared. Aye, I’m from the Abbey o’ Redwall, but Posy isn’t, she’s never even seen the place.”

  The vixen gently moved Uggo away from Razzid. She whispered casually to the Wearat, “Uggo fears you, Lord, but I think he’ll talk t’me.” She turned back to Uggo. “I’ve heard wonderful tales about Redwall. Wot’s it like, liddle friend?”

  Uggo caught a warning glance from Posy, so he went back to being silent. Shekra did not seem unduly bothered. She smiled in a friendly manner.

  “Let me tell you about Redwall, then, though I can only say wot I’ve heard, ’cos I’m like Posy—I’ve never been there. They say ’tis a beautiful place, all built from good red stone, very big an’ old. There’s everything there a creature could want, orchards full of ripe fruit an’ berries, an’ a pond, too, teemin’ with fish.”

  Uggo could not contain himself from correcting Shekra. “The pond doesn’t teem with fishes. Friar Wopple says there’s a few trout an’ mebbe a greylin’ or two. But they don’t catch one, unless it’s an Abbot’s feast. An’ we don’t eat birds, or their eggs, or any livin’ creature—er, ’cept watershrimp for otters’ hotroot soup.”

  Mowlag pulled a face. “If’n ye can’t eat eggs’n’birds, an’ fishes, it don’t sound like much of a place fer vittles. Don’t think I’d like ter live there!”

  Uggo spoke eagerly in his Abbey’s defence. “But you’d love the vittles, an’ there ain’t no better cook in all Mossflower than Friar Wopple. She makes pies an’ soups, an’ pasties, an’ cakes, an’ trifles, an’ tarts, an’ deeper’n’ever turnip’n’tater’n’beetroot pie for the moles. Best food you’ve ever tasted. . . .” His voice trailed off as he saw Posy’s shaking head, telling him that he was talking too much.

  Razzid dabbed at his leaking eye, surprising Uggo by agreeing with him. “Pay no ’eed to Mowlag. Yore Friar’s vittles sounds good t’me, Uggo. Aye, Redwall, eh? All that fruit, a nice pond fer a dip on a summer’s day. D’ye know, that’s why I’d like to visit there, just t’see it all!”

  Uggo merely nodded. All the talk of his home had brought a lump to his throat.

  Shekra took up the thread in a wheedling tone. “That’s right. We just want to pay a visit to Redwall Abbey. Mebbe you could show us the way?”

  The young hedgehog sighed deeply. “But I don’t know the way. Mister Gurdy did, but he got drownded in the storm, I think. He knew the way.”

  Razzid rose from his seat. He hauled on an iron ring set into the cabin deck. It opened a trapdoor to an ill-smelling rope locker. All the friendly manner gone from him, he pointed down. “Get in there, both of ye!”

  Assisted by kicks from the corsairs, Uggo and Posy tumbled down into the locker. Holding the lid up, Razzid bared his teeth at them.

  “I’ll leave ye to think. If’n ye still don’t give me an answer I like tomorrow, Uggo, then ye can bid goodbye to yer liddle friend Posy!”

  The door above their heads slammed, leaving the pair in total darkness. Uggo felt as though he were in the pits of despair. A sob crept into his voice. “Oh, Posy, what’re we goin’ t’do? I don’t know the way to the Abbey. When I left there with Mister Gurdy ’twas the first time I could remember bein’ outside in Mossflower. I’m lost without ’im.”

  The pretty hogmaid reached out in the darkness, finding Uggo’s paw. “Then we’ll have to think of something to tell this vermin Razzid.”

  Uggo muttered hopelessly. “Huh, like wot?”

  He winced as Posy tweaked his nose. She berated him angrily. “Like something that’ll save my life! Look, I know you’re frightened of the vermin—I am, too. But it’s no good sitting and moaning here. We’ve got to do something. Make a plan, try some sort of escape, anything except wait here to be slain!”

  Her defiant spirit boosted Uggo’s nerve.

  “Yore right, Posy. Wait, I’ve got an idea. Suppose I tell them I know the way to Redwall? That’d give us time to plan an escape from here.”

  Posy considered it. “Hmm, sounds good, but how long could you keep fooling Razzid? He doesn’t seem a stupid vermin to me. As for escaping, there’s not much chance of getting out of here. It’s nought but a big cupboard, or that’s what it feels like.” She felt around. “We’re sitting on a heap of old rope. Wait, let’s get a better look.”

  Standing up in the dark, she touched the trapdoor lid. “Get a piece of rope, not too thick. I’ll lift this door a touch, and you jam the rope in. Then we’ll try to get an idea of what this place is like. Let’s hope they’re not watching too closely.”

  Thankfully, the door did not creak as Posy opened it a touch. Uggo fed the bit of rope between the tiny gap. It worked, allowing a small shaft of light to shine through from the cabin lanterns. Standing on tippaw, Uggo strained his head to one side, reporting what he could see.

  “There’s only two of ’em there now. One lyin’ on the bunk, the other—the fox, I think—snoozin’ in a chair.”

  Posy was exploring the rope locker. She replied in a whisper, “That must be the Razzid vermin on the bunk. This place is just a mess of old rope ends. Oh, just a moment, what’s this?”

  Uggo was at her side swiftly. “Have ye found somethin’?”

  Posy scratched the bulkhead with her pawnails. “Look, there’s been a fire here at some time. This wall hasn’t been fixed. . . . Great seasons, it’s a door!”

  Uggo could see only a sliver of the bulkhead in the light. “How can ye tell it’s a door?”

  There was a dull, metallic clunk, followed by the hogmaid’s explanation. “Because I’ve found the latch. It won’t open outward. We’ll have to shift some of this rope. Come on.”

  They heaved frayed coils of sea-rotted ropes, cables, hawsers and rigging, piling them up to one side until a space was cleared. Uggo opened the door inward, holding his breath each time it made a creak or a scrape.

  “Hope the vermin didn’t hear anythin’. What d’ye think?”

  “Ssshhh, wait a while, just in case,” Posy cautioned him.

  Moments ticked by as they stared through the open door into the darkness beyond. At last, Uggo relaxed. “They’re still asleep. Where d’ye suppose it leads to?”

  Posy felt around the door. “I don’t know. . . .What’s this?” Moving back into the slim shaft of lantern light, she held up a sharp but well-worn wood chisel.

  “The workbeasts must’ve left this behind when they were repairing the burn damage. It’ll do as a weapon, eh?” Bending his head, Uggo crawled through the doorspace. “Let
’s see where this leads.”

  Posy took a long piece of tough heaving line. “Wait—this should buy us a bit of time!”

  There was a ring on the underside of the trapdoor flap. She doubled the rope to it and tied it tight to the latch hasp on the bulkhead door.

  “There. They won’t open that in a hurry. Come!”

  Uggo led the way, holding on to Posy with one paw and the chisel with the other. They went slowly and carefully, feeling their way with each step. Without a lamp, or any other illumination, it was difficult.

  The way narrowed, then Uggo felt cold water washing around his footpaws. Not knowing they were in the bilges, he muttered fearfully, “Hope we’re not sinkin’. I can hear the waves from outside. Wish I knew wot way we’re goin’—it’s so flippin’ dark down here, an’ wet, too.”

  His companion had been working things out.

  “When we were taken to the captain’s cabin, I could see the water from the back window. I think we must be going toward the front of the ship, least I hope we are.”

  Uggo raised his paw, scraping the woodwork over their heads with the chisel. He wiped ash from his eye. “More burnt wood, though this board feels a bit loose. Wot d’ye think, shall I try to lift it?”

  Posy was in agreement. “Have a go, but be careful in case there’s anybeast nearby. Here, I’ll lend a paw. Gently now, Uggo. . . . Easy, easy.”

  The board creaked slightly under their pressure, but the noise seemed to blend in with the usual sounds of a vessel at sea. When it was lifted enough, Uggo boosted Posy to take a view of their surroundings. After a quick peep, she dropped back down with some news.

  “It’s open deck above us, near the front end of the boat—the bow, I think they call it. But there’s a vermin, one of those searats, about two paces from where we’ll come up. You take a look, see what you think.”

  She assisted Uggo to peer out. He watched the searat for some time before dropping down.

  “I think he’s supposed t’be on watch, but he’s leanin’ o’er the rail. From the sloppy way he’s loungin’, ’tis my wager that he’s fallen asleep on duty. Let’s try sneakin’ quietly out an’ hope he don’t notice us.”