The red ship sailed off on her new course, with the whips cracking on all three decks below. Oars rose and fell, pulling the Goreleech through the waves. The fresh captives groaned miserably as they bent their backs under the lash.
* * *
26
VURG SNUGGLED DEEPER in his hammock. Morning sunlight streamed through the cabin window, and he tried to ignore it, closing both eyes tight, but he could not close his ears to the raucous duet which the cook and his assistant were yelling from the galley. Other crewmice were already awake, hurling objects at the galley door, haranguing the singers within.
‘You’ll turn the grub sour wid that noise!’
‘Aye, belt up, you two, stop that awful racket!’
‘I thought somebeast was tryin’ to squash a dozen frogs!’
But Beau and his assistant Cardo were in full cry and not about to give up for mere threats and insults.
‘Ho wot d’you give to a saucy crew,
Stew! Stew! Stew!
Wot’s better than a bowl o’ stew?
Why a bowl o’ stew or two!
We fries the varnish off the mast,
Then adds some ole rope ends,
An’ the cap’n’s boots all boiled up slow,
Good flavour to it lends.
So scoff it up ’tis good for you,
Stew! Stew! Stew!
Made with a drop o’ lantern oil,
An’ a barnacle or two,
Some fine sail threads an’ fishes’ heads,
Then roast the cook’s ole socks,
An’ add to that some o’ the fat,
They use to grease the locks!
Ho stew, stew luvverly stew,
No skilly’n’duff or brown burrgoo,
Just swallow the lumps that you can’t chew,
An’ fill a plate for yore worst mate,
Then sit an’ watch him temptin’ fate,
With face so green an’ nose all blue,
Stew! Stew! Steeeeeeeeeeewwww!’
Luke was guiding the tiller, smiling as he listened to the crew voicing their doubts about breakfast.
‘D’you think they really mean it, Cordle?’
‘I don’t know, mate. Mebbe they’re just jokin’.’
‘But they wouldn’t use lantern oil an’ lock grease, would they, Vurg?’
Vurg winked at Luke as he answered Denno, who was prone to bouts of seasickness at the slightest thing. ‘Who knows, mate? Ole Beau’s a great ’un for playin’ pranks an’ I remember that salty stew Cardo made when we first set sail. Wot d’you think, Luke?’
The Warrior was hard put to keep a straight face. ‘No, Vurg, I don’t think Beau an’ Cardo’d do that to our vittles, though I couldn’t find my seaboots this mornin’.’
The cook and his assistant staggered out of the galley, bearing between them a steaming cauldron. Denno’s usually ruddy face took on an unhealthy pallor. ‘Urgh! I ain’t eatin’ none o’ that stuff!’
Grinning wickedly, Beau dipped a beaker into the cauldron. ‘Wot? After all the blinkin’ trouble we went to preparin’ this delicious stew? Now see here, Denno m’laddo, I’m goin’ to see you eat this, even if I have t’feed it t’you m’self. It’ll put the jolly old roses back in your cheeks. Now open your mouth wide, old chap!’
‘Yaaaah! I’m too young t’die!’
The crew of the Sayna shook with laughter as Beau chased Denno round the deck with the beaker of stew.
‘Oh, c’mon, you great big silly, stan’ still an’ open wide!’
‘Gerraway from me, you lop-eared poisoner! Help, somebeast stop ’im! Do somethin’, you rotten lot!’
Beau pursued Denno from stem to stern, stew slopping from the beaker as he coaxed and cajoled. ‘Never grow up strong an’ handsome like me if you don’t eat all your blinkin’ brekky up, wot wot?’
Denno scrambled up the mainmast for the crow’s nest, with Beau scaling the rope ladder close behind him. When he reached the topmost point, Denno suddenly yelled, ‘Sail, I see a sail!’
Beau grabbed his footpaw, chortling. ‘No excuses now, laddie buck. I’ll pour it down your ear if you don’t hold still!’
Luke’s sharp command caused the hare to release the crewmouse.
‘Beau, let him be! Are you sure it’s a sail, Denno?’
‘Aye, Luke, I saw it a moment ago, but it’s gone now!’
Beau let the beaker drop and clambered swiftly up alongside Denno, his keen eyes following the mouse’s paw.
‘Over there it was, south, mebbe a touch west!’
The hare concentrated his gaze upon the horizon for a while, then he climbed down to the deck and made his report to Luke.
‘There was somethin’ out there, but bad weather’s risin’ from the sou’west – sea’s gone quite choppy an’ the clouds are lowerin’. Mayhap ’twas a ship – couldn’t really tell.’
Luke came to a decision speedily. ‘Vurg, steer her over that way – south goin’ west. Coll, Dulam, Cordle, pile on all sails. Beau, get the food to my cabin, an’ the rest of you, make sure everythin’ is battened down tight. Looks like we’re in for a storm.’
When the orders had been carried out the crew gathered in Luke’s cabin to share the meal. Contrary to Denno’s belief the stew was delicious. Beau was quite huffy that anybeast should think it otherwise.
‘Phuff! Never cooked rubbish or wasted good food in all m’life, wot. Vegetable stew, sah, with lots of carrot, dandelion root, leeks, dried mushrooms, onions, taters an’ my own special barley’n’oat dumplin’s. Puts fur on the chest, a glint in the eye an’ a splendid spring t’the paw. Stuff t’give the crew, eh, Luke?’
The Warrior cleaned his bowl with a chunk of bread. ‘It certainly is, mate. D’you think we should allow Denno a second helpin’?’
Denno licked his spoon sheepishly. ‘Not my fault. The way they were singin’ that song, well, I thought . . .’
Beau kindly ladled him another portion. ‘Thought, laddie? Y’know what the shortsighted vole thought. Listen an’ I’ll tell you.
‘A shortsighted vole climbed out of his hole,
His glasses he’d lost I fear,
Some blossom petals in the breeze,
Fell on his head, oh dear!
“I thought ’twas summer but winter’s come,
’Tis snow!” that vole did shout.
“I think I’d better go and warn
The creatures hereabout!”
He bellowed round the woodland wide,
“I think ’tis going to freeze!”
He shooed some sparrows from a nest,
“Back to your hive you bees!”
And squinting dimly at the ground,
He lectured tufts of grass,
“All hedgehogs now should be indoors,
’Til wintertide does pass!”
“Go join your family round the fire,
Don’t sit there all alone,
’Tis no fit weather for a mole,”
He scolded at a stone.
“And as for you,” he told a bush,
“You badgers aren’t too smart,
I thought you’d be the first to know,
When winter’s due to start!”
So gather round and listen all,
My moral’s clear and true,
I think ’tis best to stop and think,
When thoughts occur to you!’
As Beau finished his poem the ship gave a lurch. Luke saved the stew cauldron as it slid by and laid it safe on the deck, wedging it ’twixt the table and his chair.
‘Don’t panic, crew, it’s the bad weather. Sit tight an’ wait it out in comfort – there’s little else we can do. I’m goin’ out on deck. Vurg, you come with me. We’ll take tiller watch two at a time until the storm passes. When you go out there, use ropes an’ tie yoreselves to that tiller. I don’t want any crew washed overboard.’
The little ship began to sway crazily as mounting waves buffeted her, up and down, side to side. Luke gritted h
is teeth as he and Vurg strove to hold the tiller on course. Spray lashed both mice until, despite their heavy cloaks, they were saturated. A high-pitched whine, like that of a stricken beast, rose above the storm’s din. It was the wind, playing on the tightened rigging ropes as if they were the strings of some instrument. Pawing saltwater from his eyes, Vurg glanced anxiously up at them.
‘If we don’t slack off some sail this gale might rip us t’pieces, Luke. Can’t we take her t’half canvas?’
The Warrior stared straight ahead into the onslaught. ‘’Tain’t possible, Vurg. I couldn’t risk the crew’s life by sendin’ ’em up into the riggin’ to shorten sail. Also I’m near certain ’twas the red ship that Denno an’ Beau sighted. I don’t figger on losin’ her. We’re bound to follow!’
Beau and Cardo struggled back to the galley across the seesawing deck, bearing the empty stew cauldron between them. Coinciding with the boom of thunder overhead, the galley door slammed open wide. A flash of white lightning illuminated the scene as they were both swept inside by a wave crashing over the ship. Smoke wreathed them as the galley stove was extinguished into a hissing mess by the water. The seacook staggered inside, yelling to his assistant, ‘Lock all y’can in the cupboards – keep the blinkin’ vittles dry. I’m goin’ to fetch a rope and secure those water casks before they start rollin’ about!’
No sooner was Beau out on deck again than a crackling bolt of chain lightning struck the Sayna’s foremast. Like a dry twig the stout timber split, sending the long lower jib swinging like a scythe. Vurg saw the danger and shouted, ‘Beau, look out, mate!’
As Beau turned the jib caught him a mighty clout in the midriff, hurling him ears over tail into the sea.
Luke was already on the move. Releasing the tiller he quickly tied the stem line about his waist and plunged in after Beau, with Vurg bawling above the mêlée,’ All paws on deck! Hare overboard! All paws on deck!’
Down, down went the Warrior, into a world of boiling confusion, with the roar of storm and sea ringing in his ears. Luke felt his progress checked as the line pulled tight, and immediately began striking upward, his eyes searching the racing bubbling surface for signs of the hare. Air started escaping his nostrils and mouth as he fought his way bravely to the wavetops. Gasping for breath, he surfaced in a, deep green valley, then the maddened seas crashed down upon him. Next moment he was swung up high on the crest of a huge roller. Luke took the opportunity to scan swiftly about for Beau. Below him he could see the stern of the ship, but no other sign of life upon the watery wilderness. Then he was dropped into another deep trough, only to be swept aloft again. About his middle, the line tightened painfully as he was pulled along in the ship’s wake, spitting seawater, paws flailing, searching constantly for Beau, despite his own predicament.
Vurg called out to the crew, ‘Haul Luke in, mates, afore the line snaps an’ he drowns. Beau’s gone, can’t do nothin’ about that. Haul in there!’
Willing paws heaved on the line. Luke felt himself pulled through the buffeting waves, and relaxed, half stunned and too helpless to resist. Vurg was waiting with a dry cloak and a beaker of elderberry wine, and Cardo helped to carry Luke to his cabin.
The Warrior coughed and spluttered as the wine revived him. He sat up, shaking his head.
‘It was too wild t’see anythin’ out there. No sign of Beau?’
Cardo was weeping uncontrollably. ‘None at all. That ole hare was my best matey, an’. the finest cook afloat. The sea’s a cruel beast, cruel!’
Luke passed the remainder of the wine to him. ‘Drink this, now, Cardo. ’Tis a terrible thing, poor Beau. But we must concentrate on keeping this ship afloat or we’ll all finish up on the seabed if’n this storm keeps up.’
He was interrupted by joyous shouts from out on deck as the ship gave a mighty shudder and stopped rolling.
‘The wind’s turned. We’re saved, mates!’
Wrapping the cloak about him, Luke hurried from the cabin.
Evening was streaking the skies westward, and to the east the thunder boomed dully, with a sporadic bolt of lightning far off. Vurg scratched his head in amazement. The wind was still blowing; but strong and warm, flattening the sea with its power. The Sayna was shuddering lightly, her damaged rigging thrumming as she responded to Dulam’s touch on the tiller and sped south-west.
Relief among the crew was evident. Coll laughed. ‘Hahaha! Quickest thing y’ever did see, Luke. One moment we’re near sinkin’ in a storm, then swift as a flash the wind turns east an’ suddenly veers west. We’re saved!’
Dusk was creeping in. Luke’s cloak fluttered straight out behind him as he stood, with the crew, looking back over the stern at the distant area where Beau had been lost. Cardo had composed a short verse.
‘Our friend was taken by the sea,
He rests now, who knows where,
A good an’ gen’rous beast he was,
A brave an’ cheerful hare.
We’ve got no flow’rs or blossoms,
To cast out on the deep,
No stone will ever mark the spot,
Where he sank down to sleep.
Beau Fethringsol Cosfortingham,
Sweet as long summer days,
Your memory lies in our hearts,
You’ll be our mate, always!’
The crew stood in silence, heads bowed, tears falling on to the deck. Everybeast had loved the hare dearly.
Luke took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. ‘Cordle, take first watch aloft, keep yore eyes peeled for the red ship. Coll, your turn at the tiller. Right now, while me’n’Cardo put the galley straight an’ piece together a meal, the rest of you get rope an’ pitch, bind that mast as best you can, then take in all sails. She’s runnin’ fast enough in this sea. In future storms I don’t want to see anybeast out on deck without havin’ a lifeline attached to ’em. ’Twas a terrible thing that happened to Beau, but I know he’d want it to serve as a lesson to us all.’
The sun’s fiery orb sank below the westering horizon, and the Sayna sped smoothly into the night. A splash announced that the shattered jib had been jettisoned overboard. Luke stood at the galley fire, which he had rekindled, longing to hear just one merry chuckle from Beau, but knowing it was not possible. They would have to sail onward without their friend the hare.
* * *
27
VILU DASKAR WAS used to freak weather in tropical waters. When the storm struck he ordered his oarslaves put to work. With no sails to aid them they were forced to row double time as the drums pounded out and whips cracked. Daskar himself took the wheel, tacking the Goreleech skilfully on a direct westerly course. As the tempest began slackening he swung the vessel due east, came round the far side of the Twin Islands and anchored a safe distance offshore, behind the easternmost of the two massive hills.
Savouring the night air, Vilu sat out on deck, sating his appetite on a plate of baked fish and a flagon of nettle beer. Akkla the ferret hovered nearby, watching the stoat pick his teeth with a fishbone. Vilu dabbed at his mouth with a silken kerchief and stood up. Akkla gazed anxiously at the remains of the meal, hoping Vilu had finished.
‘Had anything to eat yet, Akkla?’
Edging eagerly near the barrelhead table, the ferret bowed cringingly. ‘No chance ter eat durin’ that storm, cap’n.’
Vilu held out a paw, as if inviting Akkla to finish the meal, then clouted the ferret’s face sharply, knocking him to the deck. ‘Go and get your own food, famine-face!’
From below decks there was a bellowing roar which mounted to a screech, quickly followed by the thudding of paws up the companionway. Bullflay the weasel slavemaster, assisted by some of his cronies, stumbled out on to the deck. He was pressing a wadded rag to staunch the blood from one side of his head.
Vilu could see he was in great pain. ‘Hmm, nasty injury. How did you come by that, Bullflay?’
The weasel’s toadies took up the tale with relish.
‘’Twas the black squirrel, sire!’
‘Aye, the berserk female. Tore master Bullflay’s ear off, sire, with ’er teeth!’
‘She’d ’ave ’ad ’is other ear if’n we ’adn’t rescued ’im, sire. Madder’n a shark that ’un is!’
‘No use floggin’ ’er, sire, two whips master Bullflay’s broke on ’er. Two!’
Vilu sat back, a smile hovering across his eyes. ‘So, and what would you have me do with this berserk warrior, Bullflay my friend?’
The weasel’s flabby jowls quivered with rage. ‘I wants yer t’let me kill ’er, sire, tie rocks to ’er neck’n’paws an’ slide ’er into the water nice’n’slow, let the other oarslaves watch ’er drown bit by bit!’
Vilu nodded understandingly. ‘You’d like that, eh, Bullflay?’
A drop of blood spattered the deck as the slavemaster nodded. ‘Aye, sire, I’d like it fine after wot she did t’me!’
Vilu dallied with the bone handle of his scimitar. ‘I’ve no doubt you would, but I’m captain aboard this ship, not you. I decide who lives or dies and that squirrel is not ready for death yet. Cut her food and water for a few days, that should do the trick.’
Bullflay was about to protest when he saw a dangerous glint in Vilu’s eyes. He saluted sullenly. ‘As y’say, sire.’
Vilu smiled sweetly, perilously. ‘Precisely, my lard-bellied friend. As I say!’ He beckoned to Akkla, who was still crouching on the deck, holding his face where he had been struck.
‘Stop slobbering about down there. Get up! Take four crew and go ashore. Climb that hill, and mount a lookout for the ship that was following us. Report to me when you sight it. I’ll lay an acorn to an apple that they’ll do like any other vessel does when they come to Twin Islands. Parug, do you know what they’ll do?’
The searat bosun shook his head. ‘No, sire.’
The Legend of Luke Page 22