Triss. - Part 8
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Part 8

"That bamboo must've belonged to one of 'em. Let's see if I can open it. There's prob'ly somethin' inside."

Kroova spent some time wrestling unsuccessfully with the stopper of the tubby yellow cylinder. He gave up after a while and looked at Sagax. "Wot's up, mate?"

The young badger sat still and tense. He spoke softly. "Listen to what I say, you two, especially you, Scarum. Whatever you do, don't look up. We're being watched. There's quite a few of 'em up there, I can tell by the way the gra.s.s is moving. Listen, can you hear hissing?"

Scarum started to look upward to the crater rim. Kroova tugged the hare's tail sharply. "You 'eard wot Sagax said. Keep yore 'ead down!"

Scarum obeyed reluctantly. "Hissing, you mean hissing like snakes?"

From the corner of his eye, Sagax caught a swift glimpse of a narrow reptilian head, peering down at them from the gra.s.sy fringe.

"Might be snakes. When I say 'now/ get inside that hut as fast as you can. Ready ... now!"

Scarum streaked inside, regardless of the skeletons. In practically the same instant he was followed by his friends. Kroova flattened himself, stomach down, peering upward.

"Lizards, that's wot's watchin' us. Lizards, a lot of 'em!"

Rat bones clacked as Scarum scrambled to the otter's side. Sagax joined him to take a proper look at the lizards.

The reptiles were crowding around the crater's edge, many black and green-spotted males and light brown mottled females. They stood gazing unwinkingly at the newcomers to their territory, mouths opening and closing, dark snakelike tongues flickering in and out.

Scarum tried buoying his confidence as he watched more lizards pack in round the edge. "Ugly blighters, ain't they? Not as bad as sharks, though. Huh, one of those chaps isn't big enough to eat me, wot!"

Kroova pawed at his cutla.s.s edge, remarking drily, "Mebbe not, but there's more'n a hundred o' those things waitin' fer us t'make a move. Little they might be, but they're predators all right, take my word fer it, mate."

Sagax surveyed the sides of the crater. "The question is, how do we get out in a hurry? Those sides are soft sand and pretty steep. I'd say we're in trouble, They're waiting on us to make a move, sure enough."

As he was speaking, a female leaned out too far and overbalanced. She came sliding and scrabbling down the slope, landing next to the dwelling entrance. The lizard stood rigid, as if hoping she had not been noticed.

Scarum chuckled nervously and addressed the reptile. "How d'ye do, old thing? Just dropped in for a visit, wot?"

The lizard backed off, raising first one front leg and then the other, opening her mouth and hissing. Scarum ventured a paw toward her, but she hissed even louder.

The hare waggled his ears severely. "Teh tch! Doesn't seem to speak a word of sense. Must be jolly difficult, not bein' able to say 'Pa.s.s the soup/ or 'Can I have another portion of pudden, please.' Tell y'wot, I'll send her back to her pals, ignorant lot. That'll show 'em we don't mean any harm. Like t'go back up to your family, marm, wot wot?"

Before Sagax or Kroova could stop him, the hare swept the sand lizard up in both paws and hurled it up among the other lizards. He could not avoid throwing up a certain amount of sand with the reptile. The lizards backed off speedily. Scarum smiled brightly.

"I say, did y'see that? One good turn deserves another. I imagine they were glad to get their pal back, but they don't seem to like sand bein' chucked at 'em, wot?" say, did y'see that? One good turn deserves another. I imagine they were glad to get their pal back, but they don't seem to like sand bein' chucked at 'em, wot?"

Sagax gathered up a double pawful of sand. "Then let's try out your theory and chuck some sand!"

Kroova loaded his paws with sand, grinning roguishly. "Aye, an' let's give em yore Salamandastron war cry just to show the blighters we mean business. One, two ..." "Eulaliiiaaaaaaa!"

The time-honoured battle cry of hares and badgers rang out as the three friends hurled sand at the gra.s.s above. Then, taking the slope at a run, they charged up the side, flinging sand and roaring aloud. "Eulaliaaaa! Give 'em blood'n'vinegar, buckoes! Eulaliiaaaa!"

There was not a lizard to be seen when they gained the dunetop once more. Scarum chortled, "Hawhawhaw! Frightened of a bit o' sand, eh, who'd have blinkin' well believed it? Come out an' show yourselves, you lily-livered, sausage-skinned, pot-headed, slimy-bottomed cowards, come an' fight!"

Whether by invitation, or just angry inclination, there came a loud hissing noise. Suddenly the dunetops were teeming with not just hundreds, but literally thousands of the sand lizards. All looking rather angry. The three companions hurtled down from the dunes, sand spraying everywhere from beneath their pounding paws.

As they raced across the low hills away from the crater, Kroova shouted, "You and yore big fat mouth, why did ye have t'go an' challenge those reptiles, ain't you got no sense at all?"

The hare sped past his two friends onto the sh.o.r.e. "Steady on there, planktail, 1 didn't know they could understand me. I just got caught up in the heat of the moment, y'might say, blood roused by the jolly old war cry an' all that, wot wot!"

Suddenly Sagax could not help bursting out laughing. "Hahaha! I thought the only thing that'd ever raise your blood would be a double helping of apple pie. Hahaha!"

Now that they were in sight of the Stopdog, Stopdog, the humour of the situation hit Kroova and Scarum. the humour of the situation hit Kroova and Scarum.

"Y'could be right there, old sport, hawhawhaw. I can get jolly warlike if anybeast tries to put a spoon in my soup!"

"Hohoho! Bet you'd sc.r.a.p with twice that number o' lizards fer a steamin' bowl of skilly'n'duff. Haharr, harr, that'd be a sight t'see, mates!"

They made it to the boat in safety. Sagax was loosing the headrope from its driftwood stump when Scarum called out, "Look there, the flippin' lizards have stopped on the dunes. See, they're all standing there just watchin' us. Cheerio, you snot-nosed sand slopers, you string-tailed, pop-eyed, spotty-skinned, flirty-clawed sand swif-flers!"

Kroova winked mischievously at Sagax and nodded toward the Stopdog. Stopdog. Leaping aboard, he yelled out fearfully, "Look out! The lizards are coming this way fast!" Leaping aboard, he yelled out fearfully, "Look out! The lizards are coming this way fast!"

The vessel sailed out from the shallows, with a panicked Scarum splashing madly after it. "Wait for me, you bounders! You wouldn't leave a chum behind to face those leaping lizards alone, would you? Rotters! Lend a paw or chuck me a flippin' rope, pull me aboard before they get their slimy claws on me. Cads!"

They hauled the hare aboard, joshing him unmercifully. "Oh deary me, you got wet paws, mind you don't catch a chill!"

"Hahaharr, wot about the sharks, mate? Didn't seem t'be botherin' ye as much as yore ole lizard pals!"

Evening shades lay gently over a calm sea. Sagax was making a pot of vegetable soup and warming barley scones against the firepot. Scarum hovered close to the food until the badger chased him away.

"I can't cook with you breathing down my neck. Go and help Kroova to open that bamboo thing. Be off with you!"

The sea otter was still struggling to release the stopper from the bamboo cylinder when Scarum, looking back over his shoulder at the supper cooking, tripped. He fell, cracking his head against the bamboo tube. It split in two pieces, lengthways.

"Ouch! Haha, I say, that solved your jolly old problem. h.e.l.lo, what's that?"

Kroova unwrapped some greasy canvas from around the object that had been packed inside the cylinder. "A dagger, just like that'n you got in yore belt, matey. Lookit the carvin' on it. Well, ain't that odd? Same marks as on yore dagger an' the stern o' this vessel."

Sagax left off his cooking and hurried to join them. "I wonder what it's supposed to mean?"

It meant little to Scarum, who pushed past Sagax and sat watching the soup bubbling. "Huh, prob'ly means this soup'll be ruined if I don't tend to it. Good job that bamboo thingy wasn't as hard as my handsome head, wot!"

Kroova and Sagax ignored him. Mystified and puzzled, they both sat staring at the carving on the dagger handle.

12.

Plugg Firetail had a reputation as the slyest, most bloodthirsty fox afloat. His ship, the Seascab, Seascab, was the biggest Freebooting vessel in all the northern waters, crewed by the rakings and sc.r.a.pings of vermin to whom savagery was second nature. Since dawn, Plugg had been watching the beacon burning on Riftgard Head. Seeing the signal fading from his stern cabin window, Plugg rose in high bad humour. Grabbing his long, skirted coat of plush green velvet, which had seen better days, he swung it around his shoulders and seized the huge double-bladed axe that was his favourite weapon. Sneaking purposefully up the companionway stairs to the aft deck, the silver fox muttered darkly to himself. "The blisterin' barnacles on this ship's keel are more use t'me than this lardbrained crew!" was the biggest Freebooting vessel in all the northern waters, crewed by the rakings and sc.r.a.pings of vermin to whom savagery was second nature. Since dawn, Plugg had been watching the beacon burning on Riftgard Head. Seeing the signal fading from his stern cabin window, Plugg rose in high bad humour. Grabbing his long, skirted coat of plush green velvet, which had seen better days, he swung it around his shoulders and seized the huge double-bladed axe that was his favourite weapon. Sneaking purposefully up the companionway stairs to the aft deck, the silver fox muttered darkly to himself. "The blisterin' barnacles on this ship's keel are more use t'me than this lardbrained crew!"

An enormous, fat wharf rat, with no ears to speak of, was fast asleep over the Seascab's Seascab's tiller. Plugg halted within a pace of the creature and spat on both paws. Holding the axe sideways, he swung it hard, slamming the blade flat across the rat's substantial rump. Splat! It had the desired effect. Grubbage, the bosun, squealed in pain as he let go the tiller and danced in a little circle, rubbing frantically at his bottom. tiller. Plugg halted within a pace of the creature and spat on both paws. Holding the axe sideways, he swung it hard, slamming the blade flat across the rat's substantial rump. Splat! It had the desired effect. Grubbage, the bosun, squealed in pain as he let go the tiller and danced in a little circle, rubbing frantically at his bottom.

"Yeeeeeowowow! Mercy, Cap'n, mercy!"

Plugg took over the tiller, bringing his vessel about until it was headed for the beacon. He kicked out at Grubbage. "I'll mercy ye, y'great wobble-b.u.mmed grubwalloper. Didn't ye see the beacon blazin' yonder?"

Tears poured from the rat's squinched-up eyes as, c.o.c.king his head to one side, he rubbed away at his smarting behind. "Wot's that ye say, Cap'n?"

Plugg roared aloud into his bosun's face, "Are ye blind as well as deaf, lardgut? I said, didn't ye see the beacon blazin' on Riftgard 'Ead?"

Grubbage pulled up both sides of his turban, revealing the severed stumps of both ears. "Wot's that ye say, Cap'n, somebeast eatin' an grazin' on a guard's 'ead?"

Plugg leaned over the tiller, clapping a paw across his eyes and sighing deeply. When he looked up again, his first mate, a thin, gap-toothed weasel called Slitfang, had arrived. He was pointing excitedly at the beacon.

"Haharr, lookit wot I jus' spotted, Cap'n, someplace afire!"

Grubbage looked toward where Slitfang was indicating. "D'ye think somebeast's 'avin' a feast? Roastin' fish prob'ly, eh, Cap'n?"

Plugg gestured to the two of them. "C'mere, stan' close together, right 'ere in front o' me."

They obeyed without question. Plugg banged their heads together hard, then smiled genially at them. "Take this tiller, Slitfang. Keep 'er dead on to that light, or I'll tie ye to a rock an' use yer for an anchor. Grubbage, rouse the crew an' tell 'em t'make full sail." The silver fox padded back off to his cabin.

Grubbage ma.s.saged the side of his head in bewilderment. "Grouse 'as flew with a cake full o' pail? Slitty, me old messmate, d'you think the Cap'n's gone soft in 'is 'ead?"

Slitfang was wiggling a paw in his ear, the one that had collided with Grubbage's head. "I wisht the Cap'n wouldn't do that, it makes a ringin' in me 'ead."

Grubbage nodded agreement with his mate. "Aye, I'd sooner be a-singin' in me bed too. Oh well, s'pose I'd better order the crew to make full sail. Huh, I got to do all the thinkin' on this ship, while the Cap'n strolls round talkin' rubbish!"

Soon all the motley vermin crew were on deck, hauling at the ropes to raise sails. Grubbage swung a knotted rope's end at any who were slacking.

"Come on, ye sons o's...o...b..rrels, put some backbone into it. Let's 'ear ye sing a Freebootin' shanty, an' sing out loud. I hates the way youse whisper yore songs, ruins a good tune!"

The Seascab's Seascab's crew roared out the ditty as they pulled on the ropes in unison: crew roared out the ditty as they pulled on the ropes in unison: "When I was just a young 'un, I left me familee, Wid all that I could steal off 'em, I ran away to sea.

An' me Cap'n cried 'ooray, That's the Freebootin' way!

I took a course in wickedness, At plund'rin' I came first, In slyness an' at thievin', I was voted best o' worst. An' to anybeast I'll say That's the Freebootin' way!

I'll rob the eyes from out yore 'ead, If you ain't watchin' me, An' anythin' that ain't nailed down, I'll take with me for free.

Who sez that crime don't pay?

That's the Freebootin' way!

When I rolls in to dinner, I smiles at all me mates, I robs 'em of their grog pots, An' vittles off their plates. An' if'n they complain I say, That's the Freebootin' way!

If early in the mornin', I 'ears a bluebird sing, I fixes 'im right smartish, Wid a rock from out me sling. An' me shipmates laugh 'n' say, That's the Freebooters' way!"

Captain Riftun was still breathing hard from his run along the clifftops. Having made his report to the three Pure Ferrets in the throne room, he stood to attention, awaiting orders.

Agarnu shrugged. "Tell der Freebooters to anchor in de bay an' bring dem up 'ere. Ve must bargain mitt dem."

Kurda roughly jostled Bladd out of the way and stood in front of her father's throne. "No! I say tell dem to drop anchor outside de bay. Den dey must lower der rowin' boat. Only der Cap'n an' officers. I not havink de full crew o' sc.u.m inside here. Yarr!"

Agarnu did not like having his orders countermanded, but he saw the wisdom in Kurda's statement and nodded to Riftun. "Yarr, it be as she say. Bring de Cap'n an' a few odders. Keep dem under close guard."

Riftun went back to the headland, taking with him a company of well-armed Ratguards.

Plugg, however, flatly refused to trek overland to the stronghold. Filling his ship's longboat with almost a score of crewbeasts, the fox had them row him up the fjord to the jetty, leaving Riftun and the others to march back along the meagre sh.o.r.eline.

Riftun watched the Freebooters disembark. Blocking the jetty with his guards, he confronted the silver fox.

"Leave yore weapons 'ere, you ain't allowed to walk in armed to a meetin' with the Royal Family."

Plugg drew his axe, smiling dangerously. "Stan' aside an' give way, soldier rat. Where a Freebooter goes, 'is weapons go too!"

Riftun held up a paw. His archers put shafts to string and stood with bows drawn. Now it was his turn to smile. "You'll carry out my orders or die!"

Plugg did not seem unduly upset. He gestured back over his shoulder to a weasel balancing a lethal-looking stiletto by its blade tip. "See Tazzin there? She kin throw a blade faster'n yore eye kin move. She can bring down a swallow on the wing. So if'n there's any dyin' t'be done, rat, you'll be the first t'go. D'yew reckon y'can get 'im through the eye, Tazzin?"

The weasel was a stone-cold killer. She replied coolly, "Yerrah, sh.o.r.e I can, Cap'n. Which eye d'ye fancy, left or right? I kin drop 'im afore they move."

Brandishing his axe, Plugg pushed roughly past Riftun, chuckling to the shamefaced rat Commander. "Don't never try 'n' stop a Freebooter. Yore only a landlubber, an' lucky to still be alive, I reckon!"

Shogg had lashed the tiller, leaving the small ship sailing on a straight course. He leaned over the side, surveying leagues of white-crested waves in every direction. Nowhere was there sight of land. Triss came up on deck from the cabin below, and she answered the otter's wordless glance. "Welfo still looks pretty ill."

Shogg squinted his eyes at the far horizon. "Stands t'reason, she took a bad knock from that slingstone. I ain't feelin' too grand either. There ain't a sc.r.a.p o' food or a drop of fresh water aboard this craft. Are ye sure there isn't just a liddle bit o' somethin' stowed away, a flask of cordial or a mouldy old crust?"

The squirrelmaid stretched her paws wide. "Not a single thing. They were going to provision her that afternoon, but we stole the ship before they could. While you've been up here I've searched down below again. All I could find was a couple of parchment scrolls, nothing else."

Shogg tightened his belt another notch. "So, looks like we can starve t'death in freedom, mate. Let's go an' take a peek at those scrolls. Who knows, there might be an island somewheres not too far off."

As the ship had no cargo holds, the cabin was fairly large and roomy, but low ceilinged. Welfo lay on a bunk, her head wrapped in a damp cloth. The hogmaid was sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning. Triss did not like the look of her, seasick, hungry and injured. It was a worrying situation.

Shogg opened the two scrolls, shaking his head with disappointment. He rapped his paw on the first one, calling Triss away from her patient.

"Will ye come an' take a look at this lot of ole rubbish? Wot's all this gobbledygook supposed t'mean, eh?"

The squirrelmaid peered closely at the symbols neatly marked out in black ink, recognising only a few. "This little bit here at the top is the initials of the Royal House of Rift-gard. A mouseslave who was a woodworker told me he'd carved it into different objects many times: R.H.O.R. See."

The otter traced the symbols with his paw.

"Of course, that's even carved into the stern of this ship. But what does the other bit say, Triss?"

Gnawing on a p.a.w.nail, Triss studied the rest closely. "I can make out the odd letter here and there, but I'm sorry, mate, it doesn't mean anything to me."

She continued to stare at the symbols.

"I can make out the R, H, and O a few times, but I can't make head or tail of the rest. Let's take a look at the other scroll. That may be more helpful."

Shogg grew quite excited as he viewed the other chart. "Haharr, 'tis a map! I know this bit, 'ere's the place we come from, Riftgard: There's the strong'old, the fjord, an' the sea beyond. Strike me rudder, Triss, this is one big sea we're sailin' on. I never knew there was that much water in one place!"