The Warrior Sheep Down Under

by Christopher Russell

  “Don’t worry,” grunted Oxo. “It won’t deafen you.”

  Jaycey gave him a look, then turned to Wills. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she said, “but we’re on this boat because some of us think a maiden in distress called to us. Right?”

  Wills nodded warily. He knew what she was going to say next.

  “So,” continued Jaycey, fiercely, “if she’s in that much distress, why can’t we still hear her sobbing and sighing and tap, tap, tapping?”

  Wills was actually wondering the same thing. He was also thinking back to the wind in the rigging of the yachts in the harbor. He was beginning to fear he’d made a truly dreadful mistake. But as he opened his mouth to admit it, Sal spoke.

  “It’s because of the sea air, dear,” she said, nodding wisely. “The salt gets in your ears and makes them go a bit funny. My aunt Sybil told me that, when I was a lamb—”

  “Yeah, and my stomachs have gone a bit funny too,” said Oxo. “I’m starving.”

  There was a moment’s silence as the others realized they were too.

  “Ohmygrass…” whimpered Jaycey, looking about at the bare wooden planks. “Ohmygrass…There isn’t any grass.”

  But Oxo’s nose was twitching. “Stick with me, kid,” he said to Jaycey. “You’ll be all right.”

  He ducked under the rope the deckhand had put up to keep them in, and trotted off. Quickly, the other warriors followed. Oxo’s nose led him to a cabin in the middle of the boat. The sheep crowded around the partly open door and peered in.

  Alice Barton was seated at her dressing table. Her short legs only just touched the ground and her rather fat bottom sagged on either side of the elegant little stool. She was surrounded by expensive skin creams and makeup and perfumes in little jars and bottles. She was mixing little dabs of this with little dabs of that. Eventually, she smeared a little cream on her slightly puffy face.

  “Ah, that is so good…” she murmured, gazing at herself in the mirror. “Alice, you must never neglect the face beautiful.”

  She took a slice of mango from the large plate of chopped fruit beside her. Oxo’s nose was twitching violently now but Wills held him back.

  “Not yet,” he whispered.

  “Excuse me, Miss Barton.” An adjoining door opened and Deidre tiptoed into Alice’s cabin.

  “What is it, poppet?” sighed Alice, turning from the mirror.

  “A phone call from someone who won’t speak to me. Says it’s private and he must talk to you personally. About Maiden Tower?”

  Alice’s eyebrows hit her plummy bangs. Wills’s eyes opened wide too.

  “I’ll take it next door,” Alice said. She took the phone Deidre was holding and marched briskly into the adjoining room. “Do go and get me some iced tea, angel.”

  “Yes, Miss Bart…” The door slammed in Deidre’s face.

  Wills and Oxo pressed themselves flat against the wall outside the cabin as Deidre came out on deck, but she turned the other way.

  Wills’s brain was racing again. The Alice woman was at this very moment talking to someone about a place called Maiden Tower. Could this be the tower where Tuftella, the maiden in distress, was locked? And if so, why would a human know anything about it?

  Oxo’s mind was still on his stomachs. As soon as Deidre had gone, he was back in the doorway. This time he just couldn’t wait. He barged in, snaffled up a mouthful of mango from the plate, and began to chew noisily. Jaycey followed him into the cabin, sprang on to the dressing table, and gazed at herself in the mirror.

  “What shall I try first?” she asked excitedly, sniffing the perfumed air.

  “Get down!” called Wills, as loudly as he dared.

  Just then the plate of fruit slid from under Oxo’s nose and crashed to the cabin floor.

  “Ohmygrass…” bleated Jaycey. “Ohmygrass!” She turned quickly, trod in one of the little pots of greasy skin cream, skidded, and fell to the floor, followed by a shower of pots and bottles and jars. Their contents splashed and spilled in all directions.

  “Deidre?” yelled Alice from the adjoining cabin. “What’s going on in there?”

  Led by Oxo, the warriors turned tail and ran out, skittering across the messy floor. They charged back toward the little roped-off area under the life rafts, all of them slipping and sliding on their greasy hooves.

  Alice burst into her cabin, surveyed the mess for a moment, then strode out on to the deck, colliding with Deidre, who’d responded to her call. Deidre peered in, shocked.

  “It wasn’t me, Miss Barton. Honestly it wasn’t.”

  Alice pushed her aside and began to follow the trail of lotions and potions. “Then we shall find out who it was, shan’t we…”

  Back in their little pen at the stern, the warriors huddled close together.

  “I only wanted to try some perfume,” whimpered Jaycey.

  “Quite nice stuff this,” mumbled Oxo through a mouthful of face cream. “Dunno what it is but it’s all right…”

  Links was looking at a trembling Wills. “What you tinking now, man?” he whispered. “You’s ’bout to explode.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” breathed Wills. “Maiden Tower…She was mixing up lotions and potions and she knows about a Maiden Tower…”

  “Mm…” said Oxo, licking off the last of his face cream. “Lotions and potions, eh? Must remember that—”

  “Listen,” hissed Wills excitedly. “When I was in the farmhouse, Tod had a book about knights. Knights were sort of warriors. Like us? Only in the olden days.”

  Sal started listening. She was interested in the olden days. Even human olden days.

  “And these knights,” said Wills, “went about doing good deeds. Like rescuing maidens in distress.”

  “What, even tacky ones?” asked Jaycey.

  “Yes! And here’s the strange thing. Sometimes they had help from a lady. I think Tod called her a fairy godmother. Anyway, this lady always had lots of special lotions and potions she mixed together to make things happen to other people.”

  “Ohmygrass…” Jaycey’s eyes stretched wide. “You think the Alice woman is a fairy whatdidyoucallit, then?”

  Wills shrugged. “Yes—maybe.”

  “Ohmygrass…” repeated Jaycey. “You don’t…you don’t think she’ll be angry and make something happen to me, do you, Wills? She won’t make me ugly?”

  “No, Jaycey,” said Wills. “That’s the whole point. If we’re right about her, she’ll be on our side!”

  But as he spoke, a shadow fell across the sheep. Alice Barton was looming above them.

  She stared silently down, but then turned abruptly and strode away. Ed the skipper had heard the earlier commotion and was coming down the steps from the bridge. Alice barred his way.

  “What…” she demanded, when they were face to face, “are those filthy creatures doing on my boat?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “In fact, I don’t care what they’re doing,” she added through gritted teeth. “Get rid of them at once. Throw them overboard!”

  3

  The Fairy Godtingy

  Skipper Ed could feel his jaw jutting.

  “If you don’t want them,” he demanded, “why did you bring them?”

  Alice was astonished. “Bring them?” She looked at her unfortunate assistant. “Is this another of your mistakes, Deidre, poppet?”

  “No, Miss Barton—”

  “What are they going on about?” murmured Oxo to Wills.

  “I can’t hear properly. They’re too far away. But, um, I think she wants to throw us in the sea,” replied Wills awkwardly.

  “Ohmygrassohmygrass!” squeaked Jaycey. “Can I swim?”

  “Man,” said Links to Wills, “I thought you said the Alice Barton dude was on our side?”

  “Now, Links, dear,” said Sal. “Wills is only a lamb, remember, and lambs do make mistakes. It’s part of growing up.”

  “And now his growin’ up’s finished. We’s gonna drown. That’s almost the same as dyin�
�.”

  “I’m sorry, guys,” Wills said quietly. “Maybe she’s a wicked witch, not a fairy godmother.”

  Alice raised her voice a little. “Well, Ted? What are you waiting for? I told you to ditch them.”

  “Can’t, I’m afraid,” replied Ed. His jaw was jutting out even farther.

  “Can’t?”

  “It’s against regulations.”

  “What regulations?”

  “The Non-Disposal of Fleeced Animals in the Sea regulations.” Ed had just made this up. He glared at Alice, defying her to argue.

  Bur she didn’t. She leaned closer until her nose was almost touching his. “Then slaughter them,” she hissed quietly. “You can have lamb chops for supper every day for a month.”

  When Alice had gone, quietly closing her cabin door behind her, Ed and Deidre stood looking at each other.

  “You any good at butchering?” asked Ed.

  Deidre shuddered. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Me neither.” Ed sighed and called to a deckhand. “Make room for them in number two hold,” he ordered. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

  A few minutes later, the sheep were following the deckhand down some stairs to a small but airy hold on the other side of the boat.

  Sal looked around the hold approvingly. “How very pleasant,” she said. “You see, she’s already assisting us.”

  “Who is?” asked Oxo, scoffing some cauliflower the deckhand had thrown in.

  “The, um, you know…”

  “Fairy godtingy,” supplied Links helpfully.

  “Exactly. Our fairy godtingy. Just as Wills predicted she would.”

  Wills tried to protest. He was very confused. “But she told the Ed man to ditch us. That means—”

  “No, no, no, dear.” Sal beamed triumphantly. “I’m sure she didn’t say ditch. I expect she said dip.”

  Wills blinked. The other warriors stared.

  “Of course,” conceded Sal. “Being dipped is not pleasant. None of us likes being pushed into a tank of stinky water, but it’s for our own good. That’s why Ida does it every spring: to stop us getting scab and other nasty diseases.”

  Wills was even more confused but he didn’t have the chance to say more because Sal had closed her eyes and was beginning to sway slightly.

  “Hello, she’s off again,” muttered Oxo.

  “The sheeply warriors brave and true…” cried Sal,

  “Will need some help to find that Ewe.

  A human, strange in word and deed,

  Will be their star and take the lead.

  Through foaming waters, Outback dire,

  Through thirst and famine, mud and mire,

  Her actions may seem odd, it’s true…”

  Sal opened one eye meaningfully.

  “But if they want to save the Ewe,

  They must stay by the human’s side,

  They must stay close, for she’s their guide…”

  Sal opened both eyes and smiled at Wills. “Does that help?”

  “Er, yes…I think so.”

  Jaycey added excitedly, “If we stay close, she might give me some hoof varnish.”

  “What is written is written,” announced Sal.

  And nobody could really argue with that.

  4

  Barton’s Billabong

  It was evening back at Murkton-on-Sea, and Rose was getting more and more worried. She’d looked everywhere for the sheep. She was beginning to feel guilty too. What if they’d fallen into the harbor and drowned? So when her sister Ida phoned, she didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Ida did most of the talking.

  “Lovely morning here at Barton’s Billabong,” she said. “And guess what, we’ve got another joey.”

  “Another what?” asked Rose, vaguely.

  “Joey,” repeated Ida. “You know, baby kangaroo. It’s an orphan. Like Wills. We’ve popped it into a pillowcase so it thinks it’s still in its mother’s pouch.”

  “Lovely,” said Rose.

  “How is Wills?” asked Ida. “And all our super sheep?”

  “Super,” said Rose. “Just super.”

  “And when are we going to Skype?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Skype, dear. You know. We set up your computer for you before we left—with the little webcam and everything—so you can see our joeys and possums and we can say hello to our sheep.”

  “Oh, right,” said Rose.

  “Have you had a technical glitch?” asked Ida.

  “Sort of. Yes.”

  “Shall I put Tod on, to talk you through it?”

  “No. Not just now,” said Rose quickly. “I’ve got a cake in the oven. Must go. Byee.” And she quickly pressed the button to end the call.

  • • •

  Down Under at Barton’s Billabong, Ida frowned at Tod. “Rose sounded a bit funny,” she said.

  “Probably just the connection, Gran,” said Tod. “She’s a long way away.”

  “So are our sheep,” said Ida. “I do hope they’re all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be?” asked Frank as he came in for breakfast.

  Ida’s brother Frank was almost as old as she was. And almost as much fun. He’d been in Australia for most of his life and his face was as rutted as the reddish-brown dirt tracks around the little house he lived in here at Barton’s Billabong. He’d always kept in touch with his sisters, Rose and Ida, and Ida’s grandson, Tod—who was really her great-grandson and who lived with Ida because he too was an orphan. They all wrote letters and emailed and talked on the phone, so when Frank had offered to pay for Ida and Tod to visit him, they’d been delighted to accept.

  “And how’s sister Rose?” he asked. “Didn’t she Skype so you could say g’day to your fancy flock?”

  “No,” said Tod. “She’s got a glitch.”

  “As long as it’s not catching,” said Frank. “We’ve got a busy day ahead. You’re not just on vacation, y’know.”

  Frank had worked at Barton’s Billabong for more than fifty years and he loved the place. It was an animal sanctuary, way out in the bush: the lovely, lonely, wild part of Australia. Not so lonely that it didn’t have roads, though, which meant that the sanctuary always had a dozen or so baby kangaroos, joeys, in its nursery.

  Kangaroos never learned to look both ways when crossing roads and lots were knocked down each year. Often the mother would be killed in the accident, but her baby, cushioned in her pouch, would survive. These babies were brought to Barton’s Billabong, where each one would be given a pillowcase of its own, hung from a bar, so they could hop in and out of this pretend pouch whenever they liked. The littlest ones stayed inside for a long time, only their noses and front paws peeping out.

  The sanctuary had been set up long ago by two kindly half-brothers, Motte and Bailey Barton, and Frank had been as fond of them as of his work. Had been, because Motte had died a few months ago and Bailey had passed away just a week later. This had made Frank very sad and made him think of his own family, far away in Britain, and want to see them again.

  “The old boys had a good run,” Frank sighed as he led Tod and Ida on their first proper tour of the sanctuary. “Left this world a better place than they found it.”

  “So what will happen to the sanctuary?” asked Tod.

  “And you, Frank?” asked Ida anxiously. “I hope you won’t lose your home?”

  Frank grinned. “I shouldn’t think so. Motte and Bailey didn’t have any children of their own, but they thought they had a great-great niece somewhere. So they left the sanctuary and the land and everything to her.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Tod. “How can you only think you have a niece somewhere?”

  Frank ruffled Tod’s hair. “You have to remember, mate, we didn’t have email and social networking and all that stuff when we were young. The Bartons were working their socks off setting up this place and they lost touch with their family years ago.”

  “So how will anybody find this niece?” asked
Ida, still concerned for Frank’s future.

  “She has been found.” said Frank. “Through a lawyer. A guy in Brisbane. Goes by the wonderful name of Joseph Creeply. He put ads in the papers and on the net and…everywhere. And the lady replied. She’s got the birth certificate and everything.”

  “So where is she?” said Tod and Ida together.

  Frank grinned. “Motte and Bailey were both very proud to be Down Underers. Motte was born in New Zealand and Bailey in Australia, and they had a bit of a sense of humor. So their will says this niece has got to prove herself to be a good Down Underer too. They set her a few little tasks she has to do before she can inherit. And she’s got to do them before the thirtieth of November.”

  “Hmm,” said Ida, not at all sure about this strange condition the old men had put on their will. “And what’s her name?”

  “Alice,” said Frank. “Alice Barton.”

  “And what’s she like?” asked Ida.

  Frank shrugged. “No idea. But if she’s related to Motte and Bailey, she’s bound to be as good as gold.”

  5

  Down Under

  Through the many days and nights that followed, Destiny forged rapidly southward across the oceans, rarely within sight of land and never stopping. Fuel and food were piped and heaved aboard from supply boats.

  The sheep stayed hidden in their little hold, fed and cleaned by the deckhand, who let them out occasionally when Alice wasn’t on deck. And every evening, Wills told his fellow warriors all the stories he could remember from Tod’s book about knights in armor and castles.

  Meanwhile, Alice spent every day sweating away in her gym. The solicitor, Mr. Creeply, had refused to say what sort of challenges the deceased uncles, Motte and Bailey, had set, but she was worried they could be sporty-type things. And she hadn’t done so much as run for a bus since she left school.

  Then, one beautiful sunny day when the warriors were stretching their legs on deck and Alice was trying to pump iron, Wills heard a shout from one of the crew.

  “Down Under ahoy!” he repeated excitedly for the others. “That means we’re there!”

  They crowded against the boat’s rail, peering ahead at the shoreline that was slowly getting nearer. Soon, Destiny was passing close to the hundreds of yachts moored in the vast Auckland harbor and the warriors heard the same sound that had first called them, back in Murkton-on-Sea.