Still following the broad stream, Shogg and Triss emerged from the woodlands onto a plateau of dunes. Below them the stream coursed along a canyon it had carved from running for countless ages through the dunes. It flowed outward across the sh.o.r.e to unite with the sea. Immediately both threw themselves flat on the coa.r.s.e gra.s.s, viewing the scene before them. A whole crew of vermin were lazing around the embers of a burnt vessel. Beyond that the big Freebooter ship bobbed at anchor, like a huge dark bird of ill omen. Behind it their little boat swayed on the start of an outgoing ebb tide.

Shogg scratched his rudder thoughtfully. "Look, mate, there's our boat! Wot's it doin' down this far? When we left, it was further north up the coast."

Triss shrugged. "Lucky for us we found it. We must have gone in a sort of half-circle. The captain of the big ship moved it south down the coast. So here we all are."

The otter patted the rolled-up sail, which was still tied across his back. "Then let's git down there an' steal our vessel back. We can cut round those vermin dozin' about the fire."

Triss narrowed her eyes as she peered at the small craft. "It won't be so easy as that, mate. I think there's a few of them aboard our ship, about four of 'em, I reckon. We don't have a weapon between usyou gave away your sling-stones to the Coneslingers. As for my spear, I've no idea where it is. I must have lost it along the way. So, what now?"

The light of determination shone in the otter's eyes. "We ain't waitin' about 'ere for Kurda an' 'er slavecatcher to find us. I've still got my sling, but there's no stones about. So there's only one thing for it. This is the plan, Triss: We sneak down there an' pinch some weapons off'n those vermin. Then we swim round the big ship an' surprise whatever beasts are in our boat. If we're quiet an' fast enough, we can slip 'er line an' sail off after we toss 'em overboard. So, matey, are ye with me?"

Triss gripped her friend's strong paw. "Sneak down there, steal weapons, sneak round the big ship and steal our craft back. That's a lot of sneaking and stealing for one night, Shogg. I'm with you all the way, mate!"

Tazzin was sitting stooped by the glowing embers, her head bent, snoring gently. As Shogg inched up behind her, his paw encountered something in the sand: a broken oar pole. He grinned happily at Triss. The pole made a distinct thonk. Triss held her breath. Falling silently sideways, the knife-throwing weasel groaned faintly and lay still. Shogg relieved her of two stilettos from her belt. He pa.s.sed one to Triss and indicated that the daggers, plus the oar pole, were sufficient. They backed off into the darkness outside the pool of light from the guttering fire.

Scarum had taken up the task of ship-naming, since Kroova's efforts had not satisfied Plugg. "Actually, I think Gutslasher isn't the right name at all, sah, far too sissyish for a villa ... er, fine chap like y'self. What about isn't the right name at all, sah, far too sissyish for a villa ... er, fine chap like y'self. What about Rosebud Nosenipper Rosebud Nosenipper how does that sound, wot? Yes, the how does that sound, wot? Yes, the Rosebud Nosenipper Rosebud Nosenipper pretty but fierce at the same time. Hmmm, but perhaps pretty but fierce at the same time. Hmmm, but perhaps Rottenrudder Rottenrudder does have a certain jolly old ring about it, quite a charming name, I think, wot?" does have a certain jolly old ring about it, quite a charming name, I think, wot?"

Sagax caught the hare's attention. "Ssshh, he's asleep!" The empty grog flask slid from Plugg's loose grasp as his head lolled to one side, mouth open, snoring uproariously. Scarum stared disdainfully down his nose at the Freebooter. "I say, what a dreadful sight! Bet his parents were jolly glad when he upped anchor an' left home, wot?"

Kroova strained wearily at his tight bonds. "Oh, leave 'im be, mate. While Plugg's nappin' we don't 'ave t'keep on talkin' to save our lives. Let the sc.u.m snore."

The vessel rocked suddenly. Plugg began to awaken. "Whoozat mates, wha!"

Shogg bounded swiftly over the stern, a dagger clutched in his teeth and an oar pole in his paw, which he swung. Thonk! Thonk! Plugg collapsed in a senseless heap. Plugg collapsed in a senseless heap.

Triss heaved herself up over the prow, dagger at the ready. Shogg saw the three bound friends and hissed at her, "Don't strike, Triss, these beasts are prisoners!"

In a trice Shogg and Triss were slicing through the ropes that bound the trio of captives. The irrepressible Scarum almost whooped with delight. "I say, you chaps, spiffingly well done, wot wot. Allow me to introduce us, I'mmm-mmphhh!"

Triss had her paw across his mouth. She whispered urgently, "No time for all that now. We've got to cut and run, quick!"

Kurda was furious. She stood slashing with her sabre at the reeds of a vast water meadow. "Fools! Dey haff made fools of us!" There was no trace of any creature in sight. Her pink eyes glittering insanely, she turned on Vorto. "Vy did you not carry out mine orders? You should haff captured dem by now!"

Riggan waded about in the shallows of the water meadow, sniffing at bulrushes and inspecting weeds. She shook her head and sloshed back to dry ground. "Huh, we'll never see those voles agin, and the two runaway slaves, they wasn't wid 'em. I told yer you should've let me lead the way, marm. 'Twas all a false trail."

The slavecatcher took a step back as Kurda raised her sabre. "Excuses, don't give me de excuses, vere did der slaves go?"

Riggan stepped even further back out of blade range. "As y'say, marm, they fooled us. They prob'ly never left the stream."

Kurda stared hard at Riggan. "You mean dey still back dere?"

The slavecatcher shook her head vigorously "No, marm, they was followin' that broadstream t'the sh.o.r.e, Our best bet now is to 'ead west, that'll take us to the beaches. Then we can travel north 'til we picks up their trail again. They can't go far wid the sea at their backs."

Kurda leaped forward and slapped Riggan's paw hard with the flat of her blade. "Den do it, now! Vorto, get der guards moving on der double, follow Riggan. I vill get dose slaves, even if I have to follow dem to de crack of doom!"

27.

Crikulus and the Abbot were in Great Hall, cleaning wax out of the candle sconces, when they heard the squeals of Dibbuns from outside. Before the two old friends could make a move, Skipper and Log a Log rushed by them, shouting as they headed for the Abbey door, "Leave this to us, stay inside, you two!"

Dibbuns fought to get past Skipper and Log a Log as they threw open the door. The little ones were shrieking, "Yeeeek! Big birdy, big birdy! Yeeeeeek!"

Bluddbeak, the great red kite, looked even bigger lying flat upon the lawn with both his enormous wings spread wide. Skipper took one look and commented to the Gu-osim Chieftain, "Yon must be Ovus's friend Bluddbeak, come to 'elp us."

Log a Log whispered as they approached the red kite, "Aye, though he looks as if he couldn't 'elp 'imself right now, the bird's exhausted, and he seems t'be very old. Look at 'is eyes, they're cloudy with age."

Squinting hard, the red kite clacked his lethal hooked beak. "Keerah! Stand still or die! Bluddbeak slay, be keeer- ful!"

Skipper held up his paws in a peace sign. "We're friends, matey. Ye've arrived at Redwall Abbey. You'll be Bluddbeakwe asked Ovus to fetch you 'ere. I don't see him, thoughwhere's that owl got to?"

c.o.c.king his head contemptuously on one side, Bluddbeak scoffed, "Kraah! Ovus is old, he will take long to get here!"

Sheathing his rapier, Log a Log bowed politely. "You look tired, sir, is there anythin' we can do for ye?"

Bluddbeak's head swivelled, as if just noticing him. "Karrah! I no tired, this bird just rest. You get me some greensap milk, mix with honey, that what Bluddbeak need right now, mouse,"

Log a Log bristled. "I ain't no mouse, I'm a Guosim shrew. If'n y'could see me, ye'd know that right off!"

The red kite's milky eyes glared ferociously at him. "Kreegarr! I see you, nothing wrong with this bird's eyes. Still waiting for my milk an' honey. You very slow!"

All Redwall turned out to see the great red kite lying sprawled on their front lawn. The Abbot seated himself on the doorstep, next to Skipper. He listened to what the otter had to say.

"That rascal Ovus sent us an ancient red kite, Father. Bluddbeak's almost blind, deadbeat weary, an' real bad-tempered. We'd best keep 'im an' Log a Log apartthey put one another's backs up at first sight!"

Abbot Apodemus shook his head despairingly "We were fools to listen to Ovus. That poor old kite should be back in his mountains, dozing on a warm rock."

"Gangway there, milk'n'honey comin' through!"

Skipper and the Abbot shifted, allowing Friar Gooch and Furrel to pa.s.s with the red kite's drink.

Bluddbeak guzzled away at a panful of the mixture, throwing back his head and swallowing noisily. Greensap milk and clear honey slopped down over his throat and chest plumage.

Memm kept the Dibbuns in check with a long window pole, nudging them back. "Steady in the junior ranks there, chaps, that blinkin' monster'll scoff you if y'get too flippin' close!"

Whooping excitedly, the Abbeybabes fled off to the orchard. Memm had created a new game for them: Ruggum, Turfee and Roobil became red kites, chasing the others and trying to scoff them. All good fun.

It was midnoon by the time Bluddbeak had sufficiently recovered himself. The onlookers got out of his way as he hopped awkwardly through the open door and into Great Hall.

Malbun met Curdle Sprink coming out. "What's that bird up to in there?"

The Cellarhog shrugged. "Great silly thing, 'tis flyin' about an' b.u.mpin' into everythin', see!"

Outside window cas.e.m.e.nts rattled as the huge feathery form inside hit them several times.

Log a Log chuckled sourly. "ProbTy tryin' to knock some sense into hisself."

Skipper gave a slight start as Ovus flapped out of nowhere to land beside him. The otter took him straight to task.

"Hah, so there ye are, matey. Wot in the name o' seasons made you send us that useless ole bag o' feathers, eh?"

The owl's eyes widened indignantly. "Have a care what you say about Bluddbeak, that kite saved my life more than once. He's the greatest hunter I've ever known, and a much faster flyer than I'll ever be! What have you done with him, where is he now?"

As if in answer, Bluddbeak staggered out into the sunlight. Blinking rapidly, he attempted to arrange his plumage, which was sticking out at all angles. He looked irritable. "Karrakarraka! Not like it in there, this bird bang head on roof, knock against stones. Arrekk! Dark in there, not good for kite! Ovus, friend, you here now. Yayhakkar! We go now an' hunt poisonteeth, slay adders. Come!"

Without another word, the two birds waddled off to- ward the gatehouse. Appearing very distressed, the Abbot called to Skipper and Log a Log.

"From your description of the thing out there in the woodlands, those two don't know what they're walking into. Hadn't we better stop them?"

The otter watched both birds flap their ungainly way over the outer walls. He turned to Log a Log. "Round up yore Guosim, an' I'll get my crew. We can't stop 'em goin', but at least we can stand by, in case of trouble."

As slowly as the two birds flew, it was difficult keeping up with them by paw. Skipper hurried the rearguard through the trees, whilst keeping sight of the winged pair drifting over the high foliage. Bluddbeak and Ovus finally descended, just short of the clearing where Skipper had found the cloaks and lanterns.

Stumbling from his perch in an elm, Ovus gazed sadly at his talons. "Rheumatiz, can't grip anything properly anymore."

Standing on the same branch where they had both landed, the red kite blinked at the s.p.a.ce where the owl had been. "Karrh! What was that, what you say, where are ye?"

Ovus called up from the ground where he now stood. "Down here, friend, it's the rheumatiz."

Bluddbeak licked at the honey and milk stuck in his plumage. "Chakkarr! Wait till you get it in wingfeathers, like me!"

Skipper and his party emerged from the bushes. The red kite flapped his wings in surprise.

"Arreeka! Where you think you going?"

"To see ye don't get yoreselves in too much danger, mates."

Bluddbeak glared down imperiously, offended by the remark. "Krakkah! Not need your help, squirrel. You stay here, or I slay all. Bluddbeak has spoken, stay or die. Kar-rohakk!"

He launched himself off into the woodlands, followed by Ovus.

Log a Log flicked his rapier in their direction. "Who does that ole relic think 'e is? Come on, Skip, let's go an' see those two crusty birds get themselves eaten. Snake'unter, my footpaw! That kite couldn't tell if you was an otter or a squirrel!"

Skipper did not want his followers spread out.i.t was far too dangerous. Keeping close together, they proceeded cautiously toward the glade. The smell came then, strong and almost overpowering. Hairs stood rigid on every-beast's neck.

Log a Log signalled them to halt, calling out in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "Bluddbeak, Ovus, come back or that thing'll get ye!"

There was a terrible sound of squawking, beating feathers and hissing. Raising his javelin, Skipper leaped forward. ''We've got t'do somethin', come on! Redwaaaaaalllll!"

They charged into a scene of what had obviously been chaos. Branches were snapped, gra.s.s flattened, kite feathers strewn everywhere. Ovus was lying p.r.o.ne, with a strange-looking, golden-furred mouse bending over him. Of Bluddbeak and the monster there was no trace, save for the vile sweetish odour enveloping the glade. The golden mouse caught sight of them and suddenly bolted off into the undergrowth. Log a Log and four shrews sped after him.

Skipper hurried to the owl's side. Ovus could only half open his great dark eyes as he spoke in a weak, fading voice.

"Tried to save Bluddbeak . . . got bitten. . . . Where's golden mouse ,.. helped me ... Skipper, that you?"

The otter placed a paw under the owl's head. "Aye, 'tis me, mate. Lie still, yore bad hurt."

Ovus could not stop his eyes from fluttering rapidly. "Funny... rheumatiz isn't hurting anymore ... had to try and save that old kite . . . saved my life several times, y'know."

His eyes finally closed and his head lolled loosely from Skipper's paw. The adder's poison had proved fatal. Skipper brushed a paw roughly across his eyes.

"Ole fools, brave, perilous ole fools, why did ye try it?"

Log a Log and his four Guosim returned, dragging the golden mouse along with them. He appeared to be in his late seasons, painfully thin and completely terrified. He was pleading pitifully, "Don't 'urt ole Mokug, mates, I don't mean 'arm to n.o.beast!"

Skipper placed his paw firmly about Mokug's shoulders, signalling the shrews to release their hold on him. The otter Chieftain's voice was cheerful and comforting. "We ain't goin' to hurt ye, ole matey, Mokug, eh? Where'd you spring from? Ain't seen you afore."

The golden mouse relaxed then, knowing he was safe. "You ain't Freebooters or Riftgarders, Mokug can tell."

Skipper gave him a rea.s.suring little hug. "We're Red-wallers, friendliest beasts y'could ever meet. So tell us, Mokug, wot're ye doin' around 'ere?"

Mokug's mood changed, his eyes darted to and fro, and he moved in close to Skipper, as if for protection. "Been 'ere since I was a young 'un, ever since Sarengo died. I was the King's personal slave, y'know, the only slave 'e fetched on that voyage. 'Course I was only a young 'un then."

Log a Log twirled a paw next to his head and murmured to Skipper, "Looks like ole Mokug's crazy as a fried frog."

Mokug peeped at the shrew from behind Skipper. He smiled. "Well, if'n Mokug's the only beast left alive from that voyage, he ain't so crazy, is 'e, mate?"

Skipper looked down at the pitiful creature. "Yore right there, ole feller, but where d'ye d'ye live?" live?"

Mokug tapped the side of his nose secretively. "Where n.o.beast can find me, but 'tis an 'ard life. I likes you, streamdog. Come on, I'll show ye, 'tis a real golden hamster's den. n.o.beast kin find it, 'cept me!"

The golden hamster led them to a bramble patch a short distance north of the glade, where he pointed to a tiny hole amid the th.o.r.n.y creepers.

"In there's where Mokug lives. All these long seasons gone, all on me own. Heehee, but I'm the only one left!"

Skipper looked at the tiny opening and shook his head. "Bit small for me, mate. I'd take the skin off'n meself tryin' t'get in there. You come with us, we'll find ye a decent 'ome at Redwall Abbey."

Mokug wiggled his snub nose. "Will Mokug like it there?"

Skipper winked at him. "Best berth anywheres, ye'll love it!"

The hamster scuttled into his hole, calling back, "Wait, wait, Mokug's got to collect 'is tackle."

While they waited, Skipper told Log a Log of what had happened to Ovus and Bluddbeak. Shaking his head regretfully, the Guosim Chieftain sighed. " 'Twas a foolish venture right from the start. Cold steel or beak an' talon are useless against that horror. Still, I'm sorry about Ovus, an' sorry, too, that I can't take back wot I said about that ole kite. 'E was a warrior born. Me'n my Guosim will bury Ovus where he fell, close to where 'is mate was slain. The owl'd like that."

It took Mokug some little time to pack up his belongings. At last he emerged backwards from the den, dragging a big sailcloth bundle with him. The big ottermaid Churk and her brother Rumbol kindly carried it between them. The party headed off back to Redwall, leaving behind them a lonely grave with a crudely inscribed wood marker: "Ovus and Bluddbeak, friends and warriors."

Abbot Apodemus was desolated by the loss of the two brave birds. As evening fell, he stood on the west walltop and held his paws wide, calling aloud an old chant to the crimson fires of the setting sun: ''They are gone from the land, We will see them no longer, To a place where the fearless ones go.

In the valley of noonshades, They will meet there to wander, Where the tranquil green waters do flow.

But oh, their brave memory will rest with us all, Through the flowers of summer so dear, Through the winter's cold winds, after autumn leaves fall Lives a home in our hearts for them here. Their brave lives were lost in the service of others, They died so that we might live free, O ye sad grieving friends, O ye fathers and mothers, Spare a tear as the sun meets the sea!"

All along the other three walls, Abbeydwellers stood in silence, watching as Skipper moved to stand by the Abbot. As the otter Chieftain raised his javelin overhead, they honoured the dead with a mighty shout: "Redwaaaaaaaalllll!"