by Tony Main
Also by Tony Main
Ancell’s Quest
Ancell’s
Final Battle
Tony Main
Copyright © 2018 Tony Main
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
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Contents
The Topsail Schooner Misty Dawn Sail Plan
Misty Dawn’s Crew
The Children
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
The Topsail Schooner Misty Dawn Sail Plan
Misty Dawn’s Crew
Ancell: The dreaming hedgehog sailing in search of the kidnapped orphans.
Captain Albern: A master mariner sea otter.
Skeet: The second mate. A young stoat, always in a hurry.
Chad: A plain speaking, streetwise common rat. The ship’s bosun.
Chips: The ship’s carpenter. An industrious beaver and an unstoppable story teller.
Waff: The sailmaker. A taciturn polecat. Rarely speaks other than to contradict the carpenter’s unlikely tales.
Tam and Thom: Able seamen long tailed field mice. Twins who know what the other is thinking.
Pickle and Jobey: Less able field mice seamen. Pickle ever hopeful and Jobey certain of disaster.
The Cook: A crossbreed of uncertain ancestry. Kindly, but not even Capt. Albern dares enter his galley without permission.
Merrie: A young and very small harvest mouse stowaway. Good hearted but far too self-important for his size.
Doc: A pompous, one winged, accident prone tawny owl. Always knows best and always causes chaos.
The Children
Sassy: Worked as a laundress for two bowls of soup a day.
Chantal: Blessed with a beautiful voice, she sang in the market square for a living.
Max: Made his home in an upturned rowing boat abandoned on the beach. Collected driftwood to sell for kindling.
Noname: The unknown boy calling for help in Ancell’s dreams.
‘The Orca – eight tons of pure power.’
National Geographic Society
Chapter 1
Ancell watched the coast of Australia recede, and shuddered. It looked so peaceful now. Just the mangrove trees swaying in the long swell of the Indian Ocean, and deserted but for a distant sea eagle circling in the sunshine. Yet it was there that Laughing Jack’s band of pirates would have boarded “Misty Dawn” and murdered him and every single one of her crew.
Chad joined him at the ship’s rail. ‘Dreaming again!’ the rat chided, as Misty heeled to a freshening breeze.
‘Not dreaming,’ replied Ancell. ‘But it is hard to believe that not long ago Laughing Jack was about to hang us, and now we’ve rescued the children and escaped with our lives.’
‘Alive thanks to Hector’s bravery,’ added Chad. ‘I would never have believed a crocodile could move so fast. If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be sailing home, and those sharks would be feasting on us instead of Laughing Jack’s thugs.’
Ancell nodded. It seemed a lifetime since he had dreamed of Noname, and set sail on “Misty Dawn” to search for the boy who had once saved his life. He and Misty’s crew had faced many perils and suffered the loss of Trueguard, their beloved first mate, on their long voyage to the other side of the world. Now Noname – as well as Sassy, Chantal and Max, were safely on board, he just prayed for a safe and uneventful passage home.
He turned to listen to the children talking excitedly on the quarterdeck. Chantal and Max were arguing that the most amazing part of their rescue was their flight through the land set ablaze by Jandamarra, the aborigine boy who had risked so much to help them, but Sassy was insisting that her ride through the night in Hector’s jaws had been even more wonderful. Ancell smiled, but then noticed Noname standing apart, still shivering with fright at the narrowness of his escape.
‘You’ve nothing to fear now,’ he told the boy, limping to join him. ‘Misty will see you safely home. You can forget about Laughing Jack.’
Noname shook his head. ‘No, I can’t! He’s still got Ruth and Ryan.’
‘Ruth and Ryan?’
‘They’re orphans too. They were kidnapped with me, but they were put ashore to work in Laughing Jack’s camp in another country. They were kind to me and I must try to rescue them.’
Ancell’s heart sank. ‘Which country?’ he forced himself to ask.
Noname looked up, distraught. ‘I don’t know,’ he wept.
Captain Albern was talking to Chad when Ancell hastily interrupted to repeat Noname’s news.
‘So our task is not yet at an end’ murmured the sea otter. ‘Mr Skeet!’ he called, beckoning the stoat to his side, and noticing Doc climbing from the companionway, signalled the owl to join them.
‘Some task as we haven’t a clue where the children are,’ Chad muttered. He turned to Ancell. ‘You’re the dreamer. Jandamarra took you to meet the prophet who was meant to know the future. Surely you can come up with something?’
Ancell shut his eyes, picturing himself beside the sage. Slowly fragments of the old man’s words formed in his mind. Almost trance like, he began to speak.
‘He told me I must travel to the middle of the world…to a land of forests where animals swing through the trees by their tails…a land of many rivers, one as wide as the sea…a land where I must seek the help of those who kill with a puff of their cheeks.’ He opened his eyes, feeling a little giddy.
‘Lot of nonsense,’ Chad grumbled.
‘I suppose the animals are monkeys, not that it helps as they live in over half the world,’ said Skeet.
Chad smirked. ‘Seeing as you’ve got no tail, they certainly won’t be hedgehogs!’ he told Ancell.
‘The equator is the middle of the world,’ stated Capt. Albern. ‘Mr Skeet, name me a river that flows out at the equator.’
‘The Amazon?’ replied the second mate.
‘Exactly, and the estuary is wider than the sea between England and Fr
ance.’
‘Blowpipes!’ boomed Doc.
‘What are you going on about now?’ sighed Skeet.
‘You may wish to know that there are tribes in the Amazon basin who hunt with poisoned darts they blow through long pipes,’ instructed Doc.
‘Then we sail for South America,’ said Skeet, and Capt. Albern nodded.
Noname was delighted at the news, and Sassy, Chantal and Max immediately agreed that Ruth and Ryan must be rescued. Ancell shivered, remembering Laughing Jack furiously pacing the shore as he watched Misty escape.
‘Now what’s wrong?’ said Chad. ‘You should be pleased that at least your dreaming is pointing us in the right direction.’
‘But what if Laughing Jack chases us?’ said Ancell. ‘What if he catches up with us? He’ll sink us!’
Chad chuckled. ‘Granted he won’t be very pleased with you. So far, you’ve rescued his child labour, burned his camp to a cinder and cost him the lives of half his crew. But he knows he’d never sight us in the vastness of the Indian Ocean. Much as he’d like to put an end to us, we won’t see him again.’
‘Nor Scarletta, I hope,’ added Ancell. ‘Killing is just a way of life for Laughing Jack. But Scarletta really wanted to see us hang.’
Chad nodded. ‘That’s true. It’s said she was very beautiful before she was wounded when fighting her way out of jail for murdering her husband, and her revenge for the rapier thrust that scarred her face is to kill whoever dares to cross her.’
Ancell shivered again. He could only hope the Indian Ocean was as big as Chad had promised.
Chapter 2
The children and Misty’s crew had no such fears of Laughing Jack, and their triumphant defeat of the pirates was the sole topic of conversation throughout the ship. Pickle soon put their adventure into verse, and many an evening as Misty chased the setting sun, he leaned against the foremast, strumming his guitar while Chantal sang the story of their escape. Their recital so pleased everyone, it was decided to seek the captain’s permission to hold an official performance. Capt. Albern readily agreed, thankful for anything that would keep the children out of trouble for however brief a time. How to occupy them during the months to come, he had not the faintest idea. He called Skeet and Chad to the quarterdeck. ‘What are we going to do about the children?’ he asked.
‘Make them work watches. Four hours on and four hours off and they’ll sleep most of the time,’ advised Chad. However, this was discounted as too dangerous at night, and anyway Max had already nearly fallen from the rigging, which they were now banned from climbing.
‘They ought to be in school. How about Doc giving them some lessons?’ suggested the second mate.
‘Well said Mr Skeet!’ declared Capt. Albern gratefully, and sent for Doc.
Delighted at the suggestion, Doc immediately reeled off a syllabus for a rounded education. The timetable would require a complete reorganisation of the ship’s day, including a change of mealtimes, he explained. But granted the authority he would mastermind the undertaking. Capt. Albern looked uneasy at the thought of Doc masterminding anything, and Skeet observed that unless the owl wished to lose a lot of weight very quickly, he had best not interfere with The Cook’s routine. Chad stood open-mouthed at Doc’s broadside of subjects from algebra to zoology.
‘Where’s the value in that?’ he growled. ‘We’re at sea! They need to learn about the ship and the weather. What’s the use of an equation in a hurricane!’
To Capt. Albern’s relief, rather than crushing Chad with a sharp rebuttal, Doc regarded the ship’s bosun thoughtfully.
‘That’s the most sensible argument I’ve heard from you during the entire voyage,’ replied the owl.
Sensing that Doc had accepted he had made a valid point, Chad strolled to the rail and spat conclusively over the side. Capt. Albern seized the moment. Doc was to prepare the academic lessons and Chad to plan a programme of the skills required to sail a ship.
A chorus of alarm from the children interrupted the debate as an old canvas bucket they were kicking about the deck sailed over the side.
Capt. Albern grimaced. ‘And term to start at the earliest moment possible,’ he instructed.
‘What about Chantal and Pickle’s performance?’ prompted Skeet.
Doc pricked up his ears. ‘What performance?’
‘Their song about the escape.’
‘Wonderful!’ boomed the owl. ‘I’ll produce it as a musical. It’ll be psychologically good for the children to act out their sufferings, especially Noname – he’s hardly uttered a word since he stepped on board.’
Chad’s eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of good did you say?’
‘A musical would be an enjoyable occasion,’ interrupted Capt. Albern quickly.
‘Sounds fun,’ agreed Skeet.
‘Lots of fun,’ confirmed Doc.
‘So why didn’t you say so in the first place?’ grumbled Chad.
Doc’s production was simple. Chantal was to sing a verse and the cast were to mime the action. On the day of the performance the daily chores of painting and scrubbing were suspended, The Cook served an early lunch, and Capt. Albern took the helm.
Pickle struck a dramatic chord and announced the world premiere of:
“Heroes all! Four valiant children vanquish the monstrous Laughing Jack – as witnessed by the acclaimed poet, Pickle”.
Chantal sang the first verse, and to an enthusiastic round of applause, Sassy acted her wanderings in the desert. To even louder applause, Max then played the role of Jandamarra, who had saved her life. An eruption of boos and hisses greeted Chips, playing Laughing Jack, and Waff in the guise of his evil lieutenant, Scarletta. Dressed in a mop as a hairpiece and a skirt sewn from scraps of canvas, Waff lunged threateningly at anyone who caught his eye, and Chips, unable to keep his mouth shut for long, dispensed with mime and vowed to put everyone in chains. Ancell’s role in his cliff top fight with Larren was to wrestle with Chad, who had demanded to play the part of the treacherous grey squirrel. Ancell gave the bosun a half-hearted push and quickly hobbled off stage while Chad commenced a long portrayal of Larren’s fatal fall by staggering from one end of the deck to the other, writhing in agony and collapsing at regular intervals. Chantal made three attempts to start the next verse, only to see the rat rise again to enter another final death throe.
‘We get the point, Chad!’ yelled Skeet.
Chad glared at the stoat and concluded his performance with a final ghastly gurgle.
With a push from Doc, Noname walked the length of the deck to depict his lonely trek to freedom. He completed the journey to shouts of encouragement, but quickly ran trembling to Ancell’s side. Although Merrie, determined to be in every scene, had to be dragged off stage at regular intervals, the performance ended in triumphant chaos, with Laughing Jack and Scarletta chasing everyone one way, and everyone chasing the two villains the other until they all collapsed in a joyful heap.
Ancell watched and smiled, but tears pricked his eyes as he thought of Truegard, and how the gentle red squirrel would have loved to hear the children’s laughter. Distancing himself from the rough and tumble, he limped to Capt. Albern standing alone at the wheel, the first mate he had loved so well no longer at his side. For a while they stood in silence, listening to the cast’s analysis of the production. Jobey was demanding to know why the verse describing their first encounter with Hector referred to him as a deckhand of sorts, yet Pickle as a seaman of renown and style. Pickle blithely explained this was to make the line scan and he needed a word to rhyme with crocodile. He had more difficulty pacifying Chips, who was demanding a complete rewrite because his crucial role of volunteering to enter Hector’s jaws had been totally ignored.
‘I wish Truegard was here,’ said Ancell.
‘We all do. No one more than me,’ replied the captain.
‘If Larren had not murdered him
, he’d be enjoying seeing the children safely on board. Why should Larren have hated him so?’
‘Larren sought to command Misty. Truegard stood in his way. There was a strength in Truegard that Larren knew he could never overcome. Truegard lost his life for all our sakes and made the children’s rescue possible. He may not be here, but he will be remembered for as long as Misty sails.’
‘It was Truegard who gave me the courage to face Laughing Jack.’
Capt. Albern looked up at the billowing sails. ‘And should that time come once more, will do so again,’ he said.
Doc joined them as Misty surged forward on a following sea. Ancell winced as the owl staggered into him, giving his bad leg a hard knock.
‘Our play is done!’ Doc proclaimed. ‘What did you think of it Skipper?’
Capt. Albern searched for words. ‘Very…err…well…very dramatic,’ he concluded.
‘Absolutely!’ agreed Doc. He regarded Ancell sadly. ‘You lack stage presence. There’s nothing you can do about it.’
Late that evening, Capt. Albern sat at the chart table in his cabin, listening to Doc’s proposed timetable. Doc was disappointed the captain seemed more interested in the length of the school day than the educational content of the syllabus. The sea otter’s only question was when the classes would begin.
‘I’d like a couple of days to do some lesson planning,’ said Doc.
‘Not tomorrow?’
‘I could, but…’
‘Tomorrow then! Excellent! Well done!’ beamed Capt. Albern.
Doc stacked his papers, a little crestfallen at the brevity of the discussion.
‘Incidentally, is drama included?’ asked the captain, paying great interest in sharpening a pencil.
Doc brightened. ‘That’s a thought Skipper! It’s not, but I could easily…’
‘Definitely not!’ Capt. Albern interrupted quickly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your programme – don’t change a thing!’