"I can't see much to laugh about, young un. It's not a very funny situation we're in."

Brome held his sides as he tried to paddle and stop laughing at the same time. "Whooheehee! I'm sorry, Felldoh, can't help it, heeheehee! Oh dearie me! Look at those creatures, hahahahahaha!"

The two boats loaded with corsairs that were following were only going one way. Down!

Rose joined in with Brome's laughter. "Of course, that's what Badrang's creatures were doing, holing the boats after they'd set fire to the big ship. Lucky old us, we picked the one with the smallest hole in it!"

The corsairs' faces were a picture of abject misery as they baled furiously, while the boats filled up and sank beneath them. They floated about, treading water and watching the small craft, low in the water but going strong, head straight out to sea. A joyous shout rang out across the choppy night waves as the little boat pulled away.

"Freeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

74.

Dawn brought with it a lull in the battle at Fortress Marshank. The weather was humid, and a heavy grey sky hung like a pall with greenish purple tinges out on the horizon. Badrang stood with Gurrad on the walltop, his battle-weary horde ranged along the ramparts, dull-eyed as they ate breakfast and catnapped at their positions. The Tyrant stoat noted with grim satisfaction that he had successfully defended Marshank against the corsair invasion. But Clogg was a resourceful enemy. What would his next move be?

Oily-looking plumes of smoke rose into the still air from the cooking fires of the corsairs on the sh.o.r.e. The pirates were in surly mood. Not only had they failed to breach the gates of the fortress, but they had also suffered the indignity of having their ship gutted by fire and sunk. Cap'n Tramun Clogg and several of his messmates were holding an interrogation session behind a semicircular rocky outcrop close to the tideline.

The unfortunate Skalrag and six of his remaining archers were the prisoners they were questioning. They huddled together on the beach, cruelly bound paw and muzzle with tough dried kelp strands. Skalrag stifled a terrified whimper as he stared wide-eyed at the ruthless 75.

faces of the searats and the vicious twinkle in the eyes of Clogg. The pirate stoat drew his cutla.s.s, grinning evilly as he licked the blade and squinted along it towards the quaking fox.

"Harr, tell me, Skalrag, what would you do to anybeast who set fire to yore ship an' scuttled 'er?"

Skalrag's muzzle was tightly bound. The most he could manage was a strangled sob. Clogg swung the cutla.s.s at the petrified fox's head. It clipped several whiskers and neatly severed the gag. Skalrag fainted clean away in a heap. The corsairs laughed uproariously as they doused him with sea water to bring him round.

Tramun Clogg put the point of his cutla.s.s to Skalrag's nosetip. "I wouldn't chop yer 'ead off, bucko. Ho no, that'd be too quick fer the likes o' you. Avast, mates. Tell this sc.u.m wot we do t' ship burners an' scuttlers."

The corsairs tickled Skalrag with their knifepoints as they told him.

"String 'im upside down in a crab pool!"

"Roast 'im o'er a slow fire!"

"Chop off 'is paws an' make 'im eat 'em!"

"Use 'im fer a batterin' ram agin the fortress gates!"

"Oh no, please, Cap'n," Skalrag wailed in despair. "Don't let them do it. I was only carrying out Badrang's orders!"

Clogg sat by the fox and stroked his head soothingly. "There there now, matey. Dry yore eyes an' don't blubber no more. Ole Tramun Clogg's got an 'eart soft as swans-down. I won't let n.o.beast kill yer. But 'earken now, y' must swear on yer oath that you'll do exactly as I tell yer."

Skalrag nodded vigorously. "I will, Cap'n, I will. I swear on my oath as a fox!"

Tramun chuckled as he patted the fox's cheek tenderly. "Of course yer will, matey, cos if yer don't, the things my crew threatened to do to yer would be as nothin' to wot I'd do when I caught up with ye. Lissen now, 'ere's wot you'll do ..."

"What about them?" Skalrag nodded towards his six bound comrades.

Tramun winked broadly. "Oh don't fret yore 'eart over that lot. Worms like that'd be too much trouble as galley slaves. They'll be fishbait afore nightfall, mate."

Skalrag's former archers gave a muted moan of anguish.

The slave compound was a circular palisade of upright logs driven into the ground and bound together by ropes. It had a single gate, which was generally kept locked. Inside, the occupants shifted as best as they could for themselves. Most slept on their sack mattresses against the walls, some underneath a rough wooden awning that shaded part of the structure. At night the slaves were allowed a fire in the center of the dirt floor.

Keyla and the rest of the slaves had been on barricade duty all night, piling rubble and rocks against the gates to reinforce them against the battering ram. Now they sat locked inside the slave compound, relieved of quarry and field labors while Marshank was under siege.

Old Barkjon shook his head. "It's a bad business. If Badrang wins, we'll still be slaves here. However, if the victory goes to the corsairs, we'll all end up as galley slaves after we've been forced to refloat their vessel or build a new ship. Slavery is bad enough, but the life of a galley slave is worse than death."

Amid the troubled muttering that followed, Keyla came forward.

"That's the bad news, now here's some of the good. Before we were herded back in here at dawn, I checked the prison pit. There was n.o.beast inside. Martin, Felldoh and Brome have escaped-they're free!"

Barkjon's chin quivered a little as he patted Keyla's paw. "That is good news indeed. My son Felldoh a free creature! He'll bring help to us, you'll see!"

"Aye and Martin too," Hillgorse the old hedgehog 77.

chimed in. "He's a tough one, that young mouse. He'll see that we get help of some sort!"

The slaves nodded agreement, one or two of them even emitting low cheers. Barkjon silenced them with a wave of his paw.

"Keyla, was there something else you wanted to say?" The young otter held a piece of sacking. It clinked as he strode about speaking in a low clear voice.

"All very good, but what are we doing to help ourselves? It's no use just sitting here on our tails making fine speeches and waiting for others to do something. Look!"

He flung the sacking open and weapons clattered to the ground. "Three knives, a spearhead and four slings. I collected them from dead vermin while we were working through the battle last night. There's a start to our armory."

Purslane, a mother mouse, stepped forward carrying her infant. She took an axehead and a broken sword-blade from inside the little one's shawl and added them to Keyla's weapons.

"I managed to get these. It's not much but it's a start." Others started to come forward and add their contributions.

"This dagger's got no handle, but it's sharp." "Here's the top from a long pike. It only needs a pole." "I got a whip and these two arrows. The bow was too big to carry."

"Pouchful of slingstones, a sling and this iron hook." A hedgehog, little more than a baby, tottered out and threw his offering on the small pile of armaments. "Dagga an' stones to fro'!"

The otter called Tullgrew began gathering them up. "Well done. We'd best hide these until the right time comes along. I'll bury them in the earth underneath my pallet."

Hillgorse nodded approvingly. "Good work. Remember now, stick together, help each other, steal anything you can from Badrang's creatures. Each day, my friends, we will become stronger, more determined. Only our bodies are held in slavery. Our minds and hearts are free."

The meeting ended, Tullgrew began burying the weapons. Druwp the bankvole pretended to be sleeping, but he was noting through half-closed eyes the spot where Tullgrew was digging.

Slavebeasts snuffled and moaned in their slumbers. The fire burned low in the crowded compound, and stars in the soft dark sky looked down on the misery of the wretched creatures below as they slept, all save two.

Keyla was still watching Druwp!

Dawn light found the small boat had been carried far out by the ebbing tide. It bobbed about on the heaving grey waves like a leaf in a storm. Felldoh, Martin and Brome baled with paws and oarblades, trying to splash the water over the sides. They were fighting a losing battle. Rose stood in the stern, straining her eyes for a sight of land. All she could see were mountainous grey-green waves wherever she looked. Grumm sat miserably, blocking the leak with his bottom, baling with his little ladle as the boat settled ever lower in the water.

"Burr, oi can't swim. Et be a shame t' finish up drownded."

Something struck the side of the boat, causing the timbers to creak. Brome looked up from his baling.

"I hope that was a rock or something floating by. I'd hate to think it was a big fish!"

Rose peered down into the water. Her eyes went wide with shock. She looked up, pretending to scan the horizon.

Her brother shook his head. "C'mon, Rosie, you can't fool me. I saw you gaping into the water. What's down there?

"It's a big fish!" Rose's voice was little more than a whisper.

79.

They stopped baling. Felldoh chuckled halfheartedly, "Big enough for us to catch and eat?"

Rose shook her head. "The other way round, friend. It's big enough to catch and eat us!"

There was another thump against the boat's side. Grumm sat tight, staring uncomfortably at the sky.

"Burr, oi 'ates t' think o'moi pore bottom a-poken through 'ee bowt wi' a gurt fisher swimmen under oi."

The fish struck again!

This time it fractured the planking, and sea water squirted in as the boat settled lower.

Martin grabbed an oar. "This will make a good float, Felldoh. You and Brome hang on to that other oar. I'll take this one with Rose and Grumm. If we get separated, we'll meet up at Noonvale. Look out, here we go!"

The boat filled up, sea water rushing in over the sides as it dropped from beneath them, plummeting into the depths below. In an instant they were all in the sea, struggling and kicking out as they held on to the oars. Submerging his head, Martin gazed down into the depths. He could dimly make out the gigantic shape of some deep-sea fish as it chased the sinking craft into the greeny depths. As he pulled his head from the waters, Rose was shouting. "Brome, Felldoh, over here. Can you reach us?"

The young mouse and the squirrel were being swept away on the crest of a big roller, while Martin's oar was being pushed under, weighted as it was by three creatures. Instantly, Martin released his hold on the oar. It bobbed up and began travelling away from him on the waves, and he struck out after it. Rose paddled madly, turning the oar so it would drift nearer to Martin.

Grumm helped as much as he could, calling out, "Marthen, swim o'er 'ere. See iffen you'm can catch a hold o' moi paw!"

Painfully Martin came fractionally nearer his friends on the oar. Rose kicked back with all her might to hold 80.

the oar from being swept off, and Grumm stretched himself full length in the water.

The sun began breaking through the windswept grey cloud ma.s.ses, bringing with it a heavy summer rain slashing and hammering on to the face of the deeps. Half blinded and spitting sea water, Martin felt his outstretched paw come in contact with Grumm's footpaw. He clung on furiously for dear life as Rose cried out, "Hang there, Martin. Just tread water. It'll relieve the weight on this paddle. When I'm tired I'll change places with you."

Rose kicked out with the waves, sending the oar skimming along through the rain-washed sea.

Felldoh had his mouth open to the sky, trying to drink in some rainwater. Brome had heaved himself up on the oar. Anxiously he scanned the sunny stormswept wastes.

"There's no sign of 'em. The waves are too high!"

Before Felldoh had a chance to reply, the water beneath them heaved and they were both lifted high into the air. The big fish had hauled the sinking boat around like an empty peapod. It had found something to play with! Its huge body buffeted and banged the boat about.

Felldoh was still holding on to the oar as the fish temporarily lost interest in the boat and charged at the oar. The squirrel saw the wide mouth gaping through the water. Rows of pointed white teeth and a cavernous pink interior whooshed through the sea towards him. Felldoh let go of the oar and submerged. He felt a thump on his back as the giant creature seized the oar and made off with it, frolicking and leaping, sometimes half its own length above the surface. Suddenly it dived and was gone.

The hull of the upturned boat struck his head as Brome leaned over and seized his ears. "Gotcha, matey!"

Scrambling and kicking, Felldoh managed to haul 81.

himself on to the upturned keel, where Brome was clinging with all paws.

"Whew! That was a close call. Still, fair exchange is no robbery. The fish can have the oar, we'll keep the boat."

Felldoh wiped dashing rain from his eyes. "Let's hope that monster doesn't feel playful again and come back for the boat after he's chewed our oar up. Hang on to my tail and steady me, young un. I'm going to take a look around for the others."

With Brome clinging to his tail, Felldoh stood gingerly and surveyed the stormy scene. Sunlight shafted down through the cloud ma.s.ses, which were showing areas of bright blue sky between them. The wind whipped the wavetops into white foam, sending ma.s.sive rollers combing across the main.

"Any sign of 'em?"

Felldoh shaded his eyes from the rain with a paw.

"Not a glimpse, but there's a dark splotch on the horizon that must mean land. It must be floodtide- we're headed straight for it."

Brome was not sure whether it was rain or tears in his eyes. "Thank the seasons for that! I wouldn't become a seafarer at any price. Leave the water to the fishes, I say."

The morning wore on, but the rain showed no signs of abating.

Grumm clung to the oar, half asleep, with Rose hanging on to his footpaw. Martin paddled doggedly on, pushing the oar in front of him, his body numbed from the cold of the sea and the driving rain. The sun was now coloring the sea in glorious tints. Rose stared at it through salt-rimmed eyes, lost in its beauty for a moment until Martin's voice cut into her reverie. "The sun sets in the west, doesn't it?" Rose nodded. "Hmm, suppose it does." Martin's voice became suddenly hoa.r.s.e with excite- 82.

ment. "This is the Eastern sea. If it were morning the sun would rise on its horizon. Don't you see what that means, Rose?"

"I'm too tired to work it out, Martin. Tell me what it means."

"It means that we have to face inland to see the sun in the afternoon. So if we can see the sun in front of us now, we are travelling towards land!"

Rose came fully awake, hauling herself up on Grumm's back she gave a loud yell.

"Land!"

It was still distant, but it was definitely land. Dark cliffs showed against the sky. She patted her mole friend's wet back heartily.

"Land, Grumm! It's land ahead!"

"Oi woant berleev et until these yurr diggen claws c'n sc.r.a.pe it, mizzy, an' then iffen et be so, thiz yurr beast woant never even be caught drinken water agin, never moind a-swimmen in et."

Martin found renewed strength and kicked out harder towards firm ground.

1O.

Hisk the weasel Captain watched the bankvole rummaging about near Badrang's longhouse. Sneaking silently up, he pressed a dagger against the unsuspecting creature's back.

"Be very still or you're a deadbeast!"

Druwp did not move, nor did he show any surprise. "My name is Druwp. Kill me and you'll answer to Skalrag. I'm his spy."

Hisk moved the dagger point up to Druwp's neck. "You're lying. I think I'll kill you anyway"

"Do as you please, Captain," Druwp shrugged. "But I have valuable information."